


Brothers Were Brave

by Blue_Blossom90



Category: Block B, Speed (Kpop), multifandom kpop
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 141,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4580625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Blossom90/pseuds/Blue_Blossom90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Woo Taewoon has spent the major part of his idol career as his brother's shadow. His name has disappeared, as well as his face and talent. He loves his younger brother, but it was impossible to escape the feeling of invisibility that clung to him.</p>
<p>Zico, on the other hand, has met with success. That success, however, has not come without a price. Scandals and misunderstandings, and a difficulty to produce the music which he loves best are his greatest obstacles. Worst of all is his constant suspicion that his success strained his relationship with his older brother.</p>
<p>When Eun Mi suddenly finds herself in the lives of both brothers, she begins to realize that love comes in disguise and often in more than one form. When they unexpectedly find themselves in hers, they learn that the truths others see are not as important as the truths those closest to you believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> *stares really hard at the screen*
> 
> This story will include a variety of different K-Pop groups and their members. It will also contain original characters. I borrowed the name from a Korean musical that will be performed sometime this year (Boyfriend's Kim Donghyun is in it xp). Anyway, enjoy and leave comments~I will gladly welcome constructive criticism!
> 
> [This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real life and/or other circumstances are purely coincidental.]

It had been a little over a year since debut and the cameras, photoshoots, filming, music shows, reporters, vocal lessons, dance practice, and recording sessions were still very difficult for her to believe or get used to.  
 

She’d trained and signed under a small up-and-coming entertainment company. She’d been asked to audition for them while on vacation with her aunt. Fearing that it was some sort of scam, she’d refused, but her aunt, always the one to risk all or nothing, convinced her to at least show up.

 

Back then, the table lined with stoic-looking judges had been beyond surprised and pleased at the sound of her voice. She was able to see it in their eyes though, the disbelief that such a marvelous voice belonged to a girl like herself. Despite the odds stacked against them, the high possibility that the public would reject her for being a foreigner, the company offered her a trainee contract.

 

After much debate, she’d finally agreed. Her aunt had been thrilled, calling it the greatest adventure of her life. She’d tried to reason with her, but she could be so impossible. In the end, she’d signed, not because she wanted to become an idol, but because her aunt had already quit her job back home and put the house on sale.

 

“Korea!” she had said while hopping around the hotel room. “How exciting! I always knew I would leave Mexico, but I never imagined I’d be living in Seoul, South Korea!”

 

She’d been flabbergasted. Her aunt’s eccentric behavior made her nervous. So many things made her nervous since she’d lost her parents that she wondered why she had not died of a heart attack yet.

 

At the age of thirteen, her parents had passed away in a car accident and she’d moved from America to Mexico with her aunt. Her mother had moved to the United States at a much younger age than that and with the difficulty of knowing not one word in English. Her father had been born in America but had lived his entire infancy in a small Mexican town by the border. She’d learned Spanish well, she loved it more than English, in fact; she also ended up knowing more about her Mexican heritage than the second- and third-generation Mexican-Americans she went to school with.

 

When the time came to move from one country to the other, she wasn’t entirely defenseless, but she wasn’t ready either. She knew her heritage, knew her parents’ stories. She’d never set foot on Mexican soil, but there had been times when she’d felt a longing for the motherland she’d been born away from, a longing rooted deeply in her heart.

 

The grief of having lost her parents, the anxiety of moving away from her childhood home, would have been too much to bear had she not somehow convinced herself that your parents would have wanted this for her, that they would have encouraged her to experience life in their homeland. Even while being grief stricken, she had functioned, somehow.

 

The move to Seoul, on the other hand, had nearly incapacitated her. At the age of fifteen, nearly sixteen, she knew not a single word in Korean aside from what her Spanish-to-Korean and English-to-Korean dictionaries had provided her with. Time and time again she’d attempted to reason with her aunt that she was being silly, irrational, immature even. To leave everything behind because some unknown company had painted a pretty picture of success as an idol was outrageous!

 

But her aunt had been too caught up in the glamour to think much of it.

 

“You love to sing, sweetie! You can make it big! They say they’ll teach you all you need to know, that they’ll get rid of your two left feet and doll you up all nice and pretty!”

 

She’d felt as if she were a product the company was looking into buying. Her voice was what they desired, but the package that it came in wasn’t too pleasing. The woman that would be her interpreter for the first few months had informed her that once she signed, her life would change forever.

 

She’d looked at the paper staring up at her, the black ink swirling around. They’d provided her with a copy written in English, a small consideration. She’d read it once, twice, three times on her own, not fully understanding its contents and knowing that she never really would.

 

She never really found out why she did it, but she signed. And her aunt signed. And the CEO signed. And everyone that needed to do so signed.

 

The very next day, she was put on a strict diet and exercise routine, coupled with vocal lessons and an intensive course on Korean. She felt frustrated for not understanding what people around her said, so, because she hated feeling stupid, she asked her interpreter not to aid her unless it was absolutely necessary. By sheer will, she learned basic Korean in a month. With practice, she spoke it fluently in two more.

 

Impressed, the CEO, Choi Min Soo, kept an eye on her. Everyone kept their eyes on her. More trainees came in. Some would make it, others would leave, and even more were cut. She had been the first girl to begin training with the company and knew everyone that came or went after her arrival. It was from other trainees that she learned the culture.

 

Knowing that she needed to assimilate, those in charge would allow the trainees to venture out every once in a while as long as she were with them. She’d learned about the markets, the fashion, and the food. She loved the food most, but wasn’t allowed to each much of it. It was no secret that she was a company favorite, but among trainees, she was just a regular girl that wanted to experience their culture in a healthy way, to learn, a foreign girl with weight problems that loved to sing.

On her third year as a trainee, the first male group of the company debuted. L6 debuted in the summer and swept the music charts. They made a name for themselves, paving the road she was sure she’d end up walking on.

 

That same year, the company created her own group, CELESTIAL. Out of the five, she was the eldest, shortest, and heaviest. Her skin wasn’t white; it glimmered a shade of milky mocha, the same way her mother’s had. Her hair fell down her back in thick, luscious black waves. She was nothing like the pretty girls that became her teammates.

 

Chae Young was slender, with creamy skin and straight black hair. Rena had beautiful, long legs and chocolate hair that brushed her collarbones. Dae was the tallest member, the most model-like, with feline eyes; she liked to keep her hair short and wild. The youngest, Ha Neul, had a doll-like appearance that made you want to stare at her forever. Her lips were delicate, pink, her eyes glimmered with mischievous shyness. She’d changed her dark hair for a blonde look that added an angelic aura to her small face. Ha Neul was the prettiest, and the reason why the group’s name ended up being CELESTIAL.

 

The day they were gathered and told the news, the CEO also provided each and every one of them with a stage name and position.

 

Chae Young became Chae, Rena changed to ReNA, Dae to DAEE, and Ha Neul to Ienna. They all knew DAEE would be the rapper and main dancer; she loved hip hop, that strange genre that she knew she’d never understand. ReNA and Chae made up the lead and sub vocals. Ienna had the honor of becoming the main vocal.

 

She remembered sitting in that conference room, feeling as the walls closed in around her. After four years, after having given up everything she’d known for the unknown, after leaving her mother’s homeland for a country on the opposite end of the world, she couldn’t believe that she was about to be cut.

 

CEO Choi and director had spoken cheerfully to the girls, to her friends, but they had not given her a stage name yet or a position. She’d thought that, seeing as singing was her only talent she’d be given the position of main vocal… maybe it was because Korean was not her first language.

 

“We’ve talked a lot about this,” CEO Choi said suddenly. She’d looked up and found that everyone was staring at her.

 

The CEO’s eyes traveled around the room, meeting the eyes of every single one of her friends. She loved all of them, had grown extremely close while living in the dorms during the past year. She would miss them once she left.

 

“We all have talked about this,” CEO Choi’s continuing speech made her tense. “The girls have come together wonderfully, all four of them. Ienna has had the least training time, but her vocal work is outstanding. I hear that you helped her along with breathing exercises and practices.”

 

She’d smiled at Ienna, taking her pretty hand in hers. “She has a heavenly voice, just like her name. All she needed was some encouragement. She’ll do great as the main vocal.”

 

Ienna had beamed at her, sitting a little straighter. The mischief in her eyes had glowed brighter.

 

CEO Choi had nodded. “Yes, she’s doing well, but she’s not at the level that can sustain the group on her own. Which is why we decided that we would have two main vocals.”

 

She’d looked at him blankly for a few minutes, long enough for him to smile and repeat himself in Spanish. Hearing her mother tongue emerge from her boss’ lips had shocked her into awareness.

 

“T-two main vocals?” And, when had he learned Spanish?

 

He’d nodded. “From now on, you’re Eun Mi, CELESTIAL’s main vocal and,” he paused, smiling proudly, “leader.”

 

“L-leader?!”

 

Eun Mi’s bandmates had cheered, clapping and shouting congratulations, obviously having had something to do with the decision to make her the leader. Eun Mi sat there, bewildered.

 

The next months had been excruciating. There had been a million things to do and Eun Mi could not remember them all. Before she knew it, the first stage had come and gone, so had the second, third, and fourth.

 

CELESTIAL had climbed up the popularity ladder quickly, just as their label mates L6. The company managed both groups well, produced great music, and knew how to schedule the members’ time properly.

 

She’d given interviews, performed before hundreds, thousands of people at festivals, and found CELESTIAL being invited to variety shows often. DAEE’s awkward self always made audiences laugh, Chae and ReNA were really funny, Ienna charmed them all with her aegyo and beauty. And she…well, Eun Mi didn’t know exactly what it is that she did that made the public like her, but, according to those around her, she was quite popular as well.

 

She’d lived through all of this. She’d experienced the life of an artist, an idol. But she couldn’t remember it well. Everything blurred together.

 

Where had the past seven years of her life gone? Why was it that she couldn’t hold on to the memories? Why…why had she decided to become an object of scrutiny?

 

Eun Mi worried. She worried that she’d never get used to the attention, the praise and the criticism. She worried for DAEE who had lately lost focus and messed up during practice. She worried for Ienna; she was so young, could she withstand the pressure? Chae and ReNA were good girls, but Eun Mi worried that the pressure would also become too much for them.

 

Eun Mi worried for so many things. The comebacks, the recordings, the lessons. She worried for the future that was not visible and past that was blurred.

 

Eun Mi worried so much about everything and was afraid. It made her so very nervous, but she could not show it. As the leader, she could not show it. Not now. Not ever.


	2. Pilot

Eun Mi sat on the floor of the practice room reading the news on her phone. There had been a bombing somewhere in the Middle East; she wanted to find out more about it, but it had happened several months ago and she couldn’t find the articles in chronological order on the mobile app.

 

She tried to keep up with the world. She was subscribed to several online newspapers from several different parts of the world or browsed their apps. It was a habit she’d picked up from her father and had never tried to shake off.

 

Someone dropped their bag beside her, making her jump. She looked up and found Su Jong smiling down at her, his bright pink and purple hair spiked up in a tousled mess. A smile spread itself across Eun Mi’s face as she smacked him on his exposed shin.

 

“You scared me!”

 

“Ah!” he hopped on one foot, rubbing the stinging skin. “Why are you always so violent? I was just going to say hi!”

 

Rolling her eyes, Eun Mi scooted over until there was enough room for him to sit beside her without having to move his outrageously heavy bag.

 

“Reading the news again?”

 

“Yeah…well, I’m trying to. I wasn’t able to check for a couple of days and the story I was following got lost.”

 

“Seriously? Just what goes on in the world?” He leaned in closer to her, hunching his back so that he could get a look at the screen of her phone.

 

“Too much, Su Jong, too much.”

 

Su Jong looked at her with furrowed brows. He raised his hand and gave her forehead a mildly hard poke. Yelping, Eun Mi pressed her hand against it.

 

“You don’t have time to be worrying about all that stuff. You have enough stress in your life to wonder about the state of the world and everyone else in it. Now, c’mon, we’d better start stretching before Tae Jun hyung gets here.”

 

Eun Mi frowned as she followed Su Jong’s lead. He was a sweet boy, a little rowdy and a whole lot talented and fun; he was also her best friend. Eun Mi had met him while working part-time one summer. The company had agreed to allow her some outside, real world experience under the belief that she’d manage to assimilate to the culture and improve her social skills.

 

With her fluent, yet admittedly slightly accented, Korean, Eun Mi had managed to perform well in any job given to her. She’d finally settled in a small café shop run by a single mother and her son. Su Jong happened to be the son of that kind woman.

 

Back then he’d been rebellious. He’d cut class, work, cram school and disappear for days at a time, spending all his allowance on karaoke or PC rooms. Eun Mi had felt awful about it, felt compelled to help Ms. Kang as much as possible. One day, she’d cornered Su Jong behind the trash cans in the alley and given him a great, big piece of her mind.

 

He’d disregarded her, of course, until she’d landed a perfect roundhouse kick on his side. If that had startled him, he’d become truly frightened when her hair slipped out of its elastic band and poofed up with the humidity. Eun Mi’s rampage had gone from Korean, to English, to Spanish in the process. Su Jong had looked at her with fearful eyes from his position on the ground.

 

“You better go to cram school! And you better help your mom with the shop! I swear if you don’t, I’ll beat the living crap out of you!”

 

He hadn’t understood a single word, but Eun Mi’s upraised fist had made him flinch. Things were a little tense between the both of them for a while after that, but when he’d discovered that she was a trainee, he’d begged for her to help him get an audition.

 

“Alright,” Eun Mi had finally relented after a week of his pleading. “I’ll help you get an audition. But! I will only do it if you stop skipping school and help your mom. Straighten up. You only have one life and you can’t be wasting it like this.”

 

Su Jong had sworn he would keep his promise and from that summer onwards he’d turned over a new leaf. He’d stuck to Eun Mi like glue during that time and never once left her side after he passed his audition.

 

Like DAEE, Su Jong was a rapper and dancer. In many ways, he’d helped heal Eun Mi’s two-left-feet illness during trainee years. He’d helped her learn useless talents, and taught her different accents until she perfected them for the sake of variety shows. Eun Mi had argued that it could come off as offensive to the public, and after a while of debating, he’d concurred and told her that she at least could fake being a native Korean if someone questioned her nationality.

 

“For the sake of a good laugh!” he’d claimed.

 

Eun Mi deeply loved and adored Su Jong for that and many other reasons. Those in the company knew that there was nothing but friendship between the two of them, but Eun Mi was still cautious after his debut and hers to keep anyone from getting the wrong impression.

 

Both of them believed that friendship could exist between a man and a woman without any other feelings taking root, but the vast majority didn’t. If they were hanging out together outside of the company’s protective walls, in places they were both sure to be recognized, they both made sure to take a selfie and post it on SNS.

 

Some fans had been suspicious at first, but when the rest of L6 and CELESTIAL began doing the same in various different combinations or with all eleven of them nothing had managed to formulate. The company had also stated before and after CELESTIAL’s debut that both groups were close to one another, especially as they were the first two to debut under the same label.

 

It wasn’t a lie. Everyone in L6 and CELESTIAL shared a deep bond. They were composed of the trainees that had remained with the company for a long time and proved that they could get along with the rest of their peers.

 

During their trainee days, Tae Jun and Eun Mi had set up joint practices in which they could all learn and help one another. No one had even considered the idea that they would cease to exist after L6 debuted and they didn’t.

 

Every two weeks, both groups gathered in the practice room from five o’clock until eight thirty and practiced, practiced, practiced. The company would order pizza for all of them and they would all head to their dorms for an early bedtime. If they hadn’t been too busy joking and goofing around that is.

 

Tonight was one of such joint practices. The members slowly trickled in. Ryouta, L6’s youngest and first foreign member, followed by Dae Hyun and Dae Jung, the company’s identical twins. DAEE and Ienna were right behind them, listening attentively to Ryouta’s every word. He seemed to be carrying a lesson in Japanese. Kain, L6’s second foreign member, entered the practice room a few minutes later with Chae dangling from his back.

 

Kain’s father had been half-Korean, half-German and his mother was a tall, beautiful German woman. The young man took after his mother’s side of the family, the only tattle-tale aspect of his biracialism was in the beautiful shape of his eyes. They had somehow managed to reflect both Germany and Korea in their shape. Their deep, deep, emerald color contrasting his dark, dark hair and sun kissed skin made him all the more alluring. No girl could look at him without blushing. He was L6’s pride, their outstanding visual and main vocalist. His voice possessed this rustic, alluring intonation to it. Whether it was because he’d learned it from his Korean grandparents or simply because he’d been born with such a voice no one really knew.

 

“Kain,” Eun Mi said, pushing Su Jong’s leg up until it was near his face and he was whimpering in pain. “Drop that sack of potatoes and get them all stretched.”

 

“What are we doing today?” Chae asked, landing softly on her feet as she slid off Kain’s back. “Dance practice?”

 

“Yup.” Eun Mi lowered Su Jong’s leg carefully. “We’ll start as soon as Tae Jun oppa gets here.”

 

L6 and CELESTIAL got moving. They stretched well; the girls dropped into their splits with ease after slightly loosening up their muscles. Ryouta and Dae Jung followed suit.

 

A few years ago, out of sheer boredom, L6 had asked the girls to help them split. The girls had laughed, obliging them with mirth. Out of the six members, only Ryouta and Dae Jung had been brave enough to actually learn properly.

 

After stretching, DAEE and Su Jong began warming up with a light dance battle. The vocal-line began a lighthearted cheer that included screeching high notes and peals of laughter. The atmosphere was merry, but Eun Mi could not shake off the sudden, creeping feeling that traveled up her arms, through her heart, and settled at the pit of her stomach.

 

“Eun Mi-ah.”

 

Tae Jun’s arrival paused the fun. It wasn’t his usual greeting; signaling her out like that meant that something important had to be addressed.

 

Eun Mi smiled at L6 and CELESTIAL. “You guys keep warming up. We’ll be right back.”

 

They nodded and proceeded to act as if nothing was wrong. Eun Mi could feel Su Jong and Chae’s eyes on her as you made her way to Tae Jun who was waiting just outside the practice room.

 

“Oppa, what’s up?”

 

Tae Jun was the only one among both groups that was older than her. Eun Mi shared the same birth year with two others, Su Jong and Kain, both of whom had been born later than her. Tae Jun had insisted that she call him oppa; he’d taken good care of her over the years, so Eun Mi had agreed, even if the term still felt very strange for her to use.

 

“Did you get a call from S broadcasting?”

 

“No, I haven’t been called at all. The last time they called me was the morning of filming. Why? What happened?”

 

“They won’t air the episode.”

 

Eun Mi’s heart stopped. “Was it because of—”

 

Tae Jun nodded. “They said that there was just not enough footage to salvage the broadcast. Since it was a pilot episode to begin with they decided it was best not to air it. The producers weren’t pleased with the results, it seems.”

 

“T-they could have called me. I would have filmed everything again.”

 

The handsome leader of L6 shook his head, placing a hand on Eun Mi’s shoulder to comfort her. “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t the one at fault. The PD told hyungnim—I mean, Mr. Choi, that you’d done an excellent job.”

 

Discouraged, Eun Mi hung her head. She’d worked so hard filming that that she felt as if a rock had hit her square on the chest, knocking the air out of her. It hadn’t been an easy filming, true, but she’d done what she could.

 

Obviously, it had not been enough. She’d counted on being able to promote both L6 and CELESTIAL through this program, to have a steady appearance and maybe get a few of the guys and girls to participate in episodes. Eun Mi had gotten her hopes up, seen a great opportunity and seized it.

 

But the show had fallen through. They wouldn’t broadcast it even though it was already filmed. They weren’t even going to edit it. And all because of that person…

 

Tae Jun continued to pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Eun Mi-ah, a better opportunity will come up. Trust me.”

 

Eun Mi looked up at him, giving him the best smile she could muster while feeling heartbroken, discouraged, and disillusioned all at once. “Mm! I’ll keep trying. Definitely!”

 

Tae Jun smiled at her, ruffling her hair before heading into the practice room. He grabbed the basket that was on the floor next to the door and held it out towards the members.

 

“Phones up!”

 

Eun Mi heard the kids rush to deposit their cellphones in the small basket. She’d left hers by her bag, so she hurried in to follow Tae Jun’s lead.

 

Joint practice was usually a time to unwind and get rid of pent up stress. Eun Mi threw herself into practice harder than before, hoping that another opportunity better than the one just ruined would arise.


	3. Problematic

Park Kyung waited until the two women that were climbing up the stairs behind him went up two more levels, their voices becoming nothing more than indistinguishable muttering, to knock on the off-white door.

 

There was no response. He knocked again, harder, shifting his feet impatiently. Still nothing. Frowning, he banged on the door, pulling the surgical mask down to rest under his chin as he shouted.

 

“Hey! Woo Jiho! Open this damned door! Hey! Woo Jiho!”

 

If he hadn’t possessed good reflexes, he would have pounded his friend and leader’s face when the door swung open without warning. A sullen looking Zico squinted at him, a deep frown on his lips.

 

“What the hell, Kyung? What do you want?”

 

Kyung invited himself inside, slipping out of his shoes as he looked around. He could smell the seasoning of recently made ramen mixed in with the closeted scent of a man that worked too long and too hard.

 

“Open a window, would you?”

 

Zico ignored him, closing the door softly. Kyung had expected him to slam it shut.

 

There were dark circles under Zico's. His hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed in a few days, his clothes wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them more than once.

 

Zico rubbed his eyes, stumbling to follow his friend’s demands. The gust of air that wafted in carried a gentle chill with it, the trademark of a spring night.

 

They stood in silence for a few minutes, Zico rubbing the back of his neck, rotating it this way and that. Kyung could tell he hadn’t stood up from his work station in hours.

 

“Why did you do it?” Kyung said without warning. He’d never been one to beat around the bush; he wasn’t about to start now. “Why did you mess up that filming?”

 

“Ugh. Are you here to lecture me about it, too? I’ve already heard it from everyone.” Zico pushed his way past Kyung, settling on his old, worn sofa. He draped his arm over his eyes, wishing that his band mate would go away.

 

“You got that right. What the hell happened? You’re never this unprofessional!”

 

“Ush!” Zico chunked a battered cushion at him. Kyung ducked, though just barely. “Stop nagging me! It’s not going to air anyway!”

 

“That’s the problem, Zico! What did you do that the producers were so disgusted with the footage?”

 

“ _Nothing_.”

 

“ _Bullshit_.”

 

The two of them stared at each other with narrowed eyes. Kyung’s fists were balled up at his sides, shaking with irritation. Zico shook his leg with impatient annoyance.

 

“There are rumors, you know?”

 

“There’s always rumors,” he rolled his eyes, pushing his blond hair out of his face.

 

Kyung scoffed. “I know Block B is known for being problematic, but really, if the rumors are true, as the leader, don’t you think you should have behaved better?”

 

Kyung held up his hand as he saw Zico open his mouth to protest. “No. Never mind as the leader, as a _man_ , don’t you think you should have done better?”

 

“It was a stupid show, Kyung,” Zico said through gritted teeth.

 

“Stupid or not, if what the staff is saying among themselves then you really fucked up.”

 

Jumping to his feet, Zico closed the distance between them. He towered over him, but that did not intimidate Park Kyung at all. He looked up at his friend, making sure he could read the disappointment in his eyes.

 

“It. Was. A. Stupid. Show.”

 

Shaking his head slowly, Kyung moved away. “It may have been a stupid show. Hell, it was a pilot episode that would never see the light a day. But what you did to that poor girl was uncalled for.”

 

“You don’t know the half of it. You don’t know who she is.”

 

“Oh? Tell me, who is she? As far as I’m concerned, as far as the whole nation is concerned, she’s nothing more than a young rookie trying to make it in an already saturated industry.”

 

Zico fumed. He wanted to punch Kyung. His body twitched momentarily; the desire quickly passing. He knew that if Kyung knew the truth, he wouldn’t side with that girl. He knew that his friend would understand his reasons for having behaved in such a way. They both hated people like her. They were disgusted by their behavior and never hesitated to make it known.

 

But Zico refused to damage her image despite what he thought of her original nature. No one had to know what she used to be so long as she left him well off alone.

 

“You…don’t have to know.”

 

Kyung exhaled a long breath. “Zico, really? What the hell is going on? You’re not like this, ever. You’re one of the most professional men I know. What could she have possibly done?”

 

Zico sighed, running his hands through his oily hair. The dirty scent made him scrunch up his nose. He needed a shower. He needed sleep. He needed for everyone to stop badgering him about what had happened.

 

“Listen, Kyung, I’m tired bro. I need a shower and sleep. Can’t we talk later?”

 

The older boy looked at him for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. If Zico didn’t want to talk there was no power on earth that would make him. “Yeah. Sure.”

 

They walked over to the door, Kyung handing him the bag of cold drinks he’d left by the entrance earlier. They said their goodnights with empty promises to finish their conversation later.

 

The door shut, the ring of the lock sliding into place signaling the forceful abortion of a conversation. Shuffling as he walked, Zico gathered his things, more than ready to go home and sleep.

 

When he’d agreed to film the episode, he had not been aware whom his partner would be. The thought of finding her on set—of her having the freedom to wander around without being questioned or restrained—had shocked him.

 

She had acted innocently, as if her past did not matter, as if she had a right to be there. That girl had also had the audacity to pretend not to know him!

 

The setup of the program had called for him to act sweetly, to accept it as a beautiful fate brought by a blind date. There was nothing beautiful about it, though.

 

No matter how hard Zico tried, he could not bring himself to act as if he had not met her before. He could not erase their first meeting from his mind or surpass the goose bumps that appeared on his arms when he recalled that night long ago.

 

His annoyance, anger, and hatred had proven to be too much. Zico had failed to control his snarky remarks and rude actions.

 

The girl had looked at him in confusion and hurt more than once. He’d never felt sorry for her. When she had casually initiated physical contact with him while in a store by slightly placing her fingers on his arm, Zico had jerked away as if she had electrocuted him.

 

He remembered the collective gasps of the production crew. He could only imagine what his face must have looked like contorted by disgusted loathing.

 

She had blinked up at him, looked at her hand, and then slowly lowered it. She’d laced her fingers together, clasping them before her to hide their tremors.

 

Zico remembered having implied that she disgusted him, that he wanted nothing to do with her. He’d mistreated her to the point that he was sure she would cry. But that girl had stood her ground. She had taken several breaks in between locations and returned to filming with a bright smile on her face.

 

He didn’t know how she did it. Then again, it was probably part of her nature to try and try again however difficult the obstacles, to find ways of getting what she wanted by intruding in other people’s personal space.

 

“Stay away,” Zico had pushed her aside when she’d come too close. “Don’t you know what personal space is?”

 

That had really made the PD angry. He’d called for a break, pulled him aside, and scolded him.

“Do you not want to do this? Is that why you’re being like this?”

 

“Yeah, that’s right, I don’t want to do this. Especially with her.”

 

“You agreed to this, Zico.”

 

“I agreed to film a blind date, yes, but blind dates can end up being hateful disasters. I don’t want to do this if she’s going to be the one I have to work with. I refuse.”

 

The PD had looked at him long and hard, scanning him up and down. “What the hell happened to you? You’re not acting like yourself.”

 

“Just get her away from me. Hire someone else if you don’t want this show to flop.”

 

Zico had walked away. The girl had tried to approach him, to talk to him, but he had made it clear that he did not want to be around her. They’d gone on filming even after that, through it wasn’t long before everyone grew irate and tired.

 

As he pulled into the driveway of his home, Zico felt a little apologetic towards the production crew. The program had actually had a fun set up. He really would have enjoyed a blind date if it had been someone better suited to his taste.

 

The hot water pulled at the knots on his back, the steam clearing his surroundings. He could hear his mother talking with his father. He hadn’t seen his brother on the way in. Zico wondered if Ji Seok would lecture him as well.

 

Without bothering to dry his hair properly, Zico stumbled across his room, dropped into bed; he fell into a hard, black, deep sleep seconds after his head hit his pillow.


	4. Changing Winds

Woo Taewoon enjoyed his early morning jogs. The moments before dawn were his favorite. The world remained asleep, still. He always felt as if he were the only one that existed. With no sound except the dead silence of the predawn, Taewoon would run.

 

The weather had finally given way; the icy days of winter were slowly being left behind. Taewoon found himself needing less layers of clothing with each passing day. Today, he wore a thick beanie on his head, a running jacket, and his ever present, ever necessary mask.

 

In all honesty, Taewoon doubted anyone would recognize him. He had several routes he liked to run; he had not been stopped once while on them. Taewoon liked the anonymity, sometimes. Other times, it added to the suffocating pressure, a constant weight pressing itself against his chest.

 

Up ahead, Taewoon spotted an elderly woman shuffling along, old plastic bags in both hands. He slowed his pace until he was walking beside her.

 

“Grandmother, let me help you,” he said as he took the bags from her hands.

 

“My! What a nice young man you are! But why are you outside so early? The sun is only just now coming up. It’s cold. You should wear more clothes.”

 

Taewoon laughed as he tossed the bags into the large trash bin by the side of the road. He the beanie from his head and placed it on the woman’s head. “Grandmother, let me walk you home.”

 

“Ooh, thank you so much. Tell me, Young Do, what took you so long? I’ve been waiting for a long, long, long time.”

 

“I’m sorry, grandmother. I was stuck in traffic.”

 

“I’m always telling you to leave work early. You’re so thickheaded. You can’t make it back home in time for dinner if you leave work late. Your food grows cold. I don’t eat until you eat, you know that.”

 

“Yes, grandmother.”

 

He listened to her talk. Patting her hand when she tightened her grip around his arm. He walked her back home, a house several blocks away from where he always found her dragging trash bags along. The front gate was open, a woman in her forties stood wrapped in a blanked, looking disheveled.

 

“Mother!” She rushed to them, her plastic shoes clopping loudly against the pavement. “Mother you can’t be out at this time of day! It’s freezing!”

 

“Daughter, look! Young Do came home! We should make some dinner and throw a party.” The old woman looked up to wink at Taewoon. “Maybe we can have some beers, too.”

 

Ms. Park shook her head, prying her mother off of Taewoon’s arm. “I’m sorry about this Mr. Woo. We’re always troubling you. I don’t know how she gets out!”

 

“Don’t apologize, Ms. Park. I’m just glad I was around to get her back home.”

 

After another round of fussing and apologies in which Taewoon reassured Ms. Park that it really wasn’t an inconvenience and assure Mrs. Kim that yes, he would be home for dinner and he would drink with her, he went on his way.

 

Taewoon had come to learn that that Mrs. Kim was slowly going senile. She’d screamed the entire way home the first time he’d tried to help her and stopped only when he found himself forced to lie to a couple of onlookers that he was her grandson. He’d become her Young Do then; a grandson that had once promised to stop by for dinner only to never be heard of or seen again.

 

Her daughter, Ms. Park, had deteriorated after her son’s disappearance. Her husband had left her and her elderly mother. Lost to the bottle or some other disgusting vice, Taewoon suspected.

 

So, every Thrusday morning, Taewoon ran this particular route. He would make sure to be there, and if he couldn’t, he made sure Ms. Park knew where to find her mother. Sometimes, Mrs. Kim would recognize him, others she wouldn’t.

 

She had slowly become a part of Taewoon’s life just as she had become a part of hers.

 

Taewoon saw the stories of the world. He could read the struggles of a single mother as she left home in the early morning, in the way in which she carried herself, hurrying to get to work. He could see the premature wisdom, the deep intelligence, in the marching kindergarteners that tightly held hands as they made their way to school, leaving an empty house behind. In the hands of the elderly, in their wrinkles, their solemn and happy countenance, he would witness the events of a lifetime. And in the comings and goings of the youth he could see the inexperience, the thirst for excitement, the desire to excel.

 

What he saw became lyrics, sounds, rhymes; it became music. To Taewoon, the world _was_ music; an endless stream of songs in harmony. He and his brother shared this trait. But whereas Zico locked himself in a room and worked himself ragged, Taewoon ventured out into the world.

 

Zico had been in scandals. All the right ones, all the wrong ones, all the meaningless ones. On the streets, he was easily recognized if someone stared long enough. Taewoon, on the other hand, used his anonymity like a shield.

 

He worked hard when he had to. He experienced life always. He didn’t understand why Zico would spend so much time working. Taewoon wondered if success had anything to do with the manner in which his younger brother ended up locking himself away “working.”

 

He wanted to be successful, but he wasn’t too sure if he would enjoy it if he ended up like Zico.

 

St. Cecilia’s Catholic Church appeared suddenly as he rounded a corner. Gradually, Taewoon slowed down, walking the rest of the way.

 

The church wasn’t old, but it wasn’t new either. Taewoon had actually come across it by chance once while chasing after one of his friend’s dogs. He’d been impressed by the magnificence of the stained glass windows, the stories of the Bible spread across in breathtaking colors.

 

The windows were not the only thing that had attracted Taewoon to the building. If one went around the right side, one would find a peaceful, beautiful prayer garden.

 

Statues of saints guarded the place, their white marble bodies casting a hushing enchantment. Paths of cobblestones would lead the devout across the landscape, leading them to a spectacular replica of Michelangelo’s _Pieta_. A single bench rested before it, offering moments of contemplation.

 

Further down, a prayer circle wound into itself in delicate curves. Taewoon enjoyed the prayer circle. He’d left several pebbles at its center; one for each heavy thought that weighed on him.

 

Soon, it would be lush and green. He couldn’t wait to come back then.

 

The cobblestones felt rustic under his feet. The wind chilled his cheeks, nose, and ears. He buried his hands in his pockets, feeling alive.

 

Visiting St. Cecilia’s always alleviated Taewoon. The pressure of being a public figure stripped of his name, the weight of being a leader, the desire to become better, bigger, greater. He struggled with so many thoughts, battled too many emotions all at once.

 

He was halfway to the prayer circle when he spotted a figure leaning against the base of St. Michael’s statue. The avenging archangel held his sword over his head, wings spread in a powerful flurry, his foot on the devil’s head; and just below that powerful scene was a girl.

 

Her legs were spread out before her, feet crossed at the ankles, hands clasped on her lap. She wore skinny jeans, and black boots over her knitted leg warmers. There was a light white sweater underneath her blue woolen one. Her hair fell across her face in dark tousles.

 

Normally, Taewoon would have been on his way; he wouldn’t have taken so much notice of anyone in particular if they were in the garden with him. But it was just after dawn, the wind blew in cold gusts, and the girl’s head swayed from side to side then snapped up only to hang limply.

 

“She’ll hurt her neck like that.” He made his way to her, the half-dry grass crunched when he stepped off the cobbled path.

 

Crouching low, he gave her a gentle shake. “Miss?”

 

The girl’s head lolled off to the side in an alarming manner. Taewoon steadied her, cupping her face in his hands. What he saw knocked the wind out of him.

 

She was a foreigner. Her long hair was thick, darker than black. Her skin glowed in an unknown tone, reminding him of milky mocha. She had a round face with high, soft cheekbones. Her lips were wide and plump, with the sharpest Cupid’s bow he’d ever seen. Her nose started out sharply, small and upturned.

 

Her eyes were rimmed with thick eyelashes. Her eyebrows were strong, just as dark as her hair. They weren’t styled in the popular straight-across fashion; they arched smoothly across. She wore no bangs, instead, her forehead lay bare. A gentle beauty mark rested on her left cheekbone, not quite under the corner of her eye but not too far off.

 

Taewoon was awestruck. He had never seen anyone so beautiful before. This girl was breathtaking.

 

Without thinking, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Her eyes fluttered; alarmed, Taewoon froze. When she gave no signs of waking, he exhaled, sat beside her, placing her head against his arm. She was so small, her head didn’t make it up to his shoulder. Her breaths were deep, even.

 

In her hands, twined between her fingers, rested a rosary. The beads were made of rose petals; constant use had tarnished their bright color.

 

Across from where they sat, a bundle of bushes surrounded a small statue. The Virgin stood with praying hands atop a crescent moon, an angel held them up with his wings; the corners of her mantle and dress in each of his hands. Kneeling before her was a man of humble clothes. The way the sculptor had created this piece made the man’s hair look very similar to the sleeping girl’s.

 

Taewoon had never noticed this statue before. It was his first time seeing it. He also didn’t know what Virgin this was. He felt rude for not knowing.

 

Minutes ticked by in silence as he contemplated the image before him and listened to the breathing of the girl beside him.

 

A vibration went off somewhere close to them. Taewoon’s heart jumped slightly as he fussed about to get find his phone. Except it wasn’t his phone that was going off.

 

The girl gave a little jolt as she woke up, her shoulders hitching up. She sat up quickly, reaching into her sweater. She accepted the call, sliding her finger across the screen, with still closed eyes.

 

“H-hello?”

 

Taewoon was surprised at her Korean; it possessed only a slight accent that didn’t quite reveal to him where she originated from.

 

“E-eh? What?” The girl spoke informally as she rubbed her eye fiercely with her free hand. “No, I’m not at the dorm. Eh? I think I was sleeping. What was that?”

 

She looked around her, squinting against the bright morning sunlight. She focused on Taewoon still sitting next to her.

 

Stiffling a yawn she asked in a formal tone, “Where is this?”  
 

Taewoon’s eyebrows knitted together. “St. Cecilia’s Catholic Church.”

 

“Ah. I’m at St. Cecilia’s. The prayer garden? Yes, I’m suppose I’m there. Mm. Okay. Yeah, I’ll just wait here. Mm.”

 

She tossed the phone back into her sweater, covered her yawn with her hand, and settled back against the granite base of St. Michael’s statue.

 

“A girl can’t sleep in peace around here.”

 

“Well, you are in a public place, you know. It’s dangerous to sleep out in the open like that.”

 

“But, this is a church.”

 

“Bad things happen everywhere.”

 

She seemed to have been nodding off, but just as suddenly as her head had started to bob it snapped back up again. She snapped around to look at him so fast that she cried out in pain, her hand flying to her neck.

 

“W-who are you?”

 

Taewoon couldn’t help smiling. The entire scene was just too improbable and hilarious. “A bit late for that, isn’t it?”


	5. Peculiar

Eun Mi stared at the man beside her. She couldn’t see his face, not with the black mask hiding it, but she could tell he was smiling. His eyes crinkled, one of them becoming smaller than the other. His eyes had what she’d learned was called _aegyo_ fat or _aegyeo-sal_. It made his eyes seem warmer, kinder.

 

“Have…have we met before?” Eun Mi asked. She was taken aback by the situation, but in her mind his eyes resonated with familiarity.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Oh, it’s just that you look familiar to me. Well, your eyes do.” She raised her finger and tapped the corner of her own eye to emphasize the point.

 

“My eyes?”

 

Just as the question left his lips, their eyes met. The brief eye contact filled Eun Mi with a blazing heat; a knot formed in her stomach, her heart skipped a beat. Her shoulders gave that surprised jolt that they always did when she realized she’d done something wrong and she looked away.

 

She rubbed her aching neck, wishing she hadn’t turned so quickly.

 

“Did you sleep well?” He asked as he drew his legs up, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together.

 

“Pardon?”

 

His eye smile appeared again. “Did you sleep well?”

 

Eun Mi blinked. “I…I…”

 

“You don’t remember? Well, let me tell you, you were snoring. And you drooled all over my jacket.”

 

Heat ambushed Eun Mi’s cheeks. “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!” She wiped at the corners of her mouth, then fussed with her hair.

 

Taewoon chuckled. Her mannerisms were cute, innocent even. But just as quickly as he found her adorable, he found her stupid.

 

“You shouldn’t sleep in open spaces. Did you spend the entire night out here? Next time, when you run away from home, go to a sauna.”

 

Eun Mi slipped her rosary beads over her head before covering her face with her hand. She was embarrassed. Her cheeks burned, her hair was a mess, and he had said that she’d drooled all over his arm.

 

“I didn’t run away. Sometimes, when I can’t sleep I came here. I hadn’t seen _Mami Lupita_ in a long time, so I came to clean and pray.”

 

Taewoon turned to look at her. “Who?”

 

“ _Mami Lupita_ ,” she repeated, lowering her hand a bit and signaling to the sculpture before them. “Our Lady of Guadalupe. She’s the Patroness of the Americas. You’ve never heard of her before?”

 

“I can’t say I have. I mean, I knew she was Mary, but I didn’t know how to address her in this form. Where did she appear like this?”

 

Eun Mi’s eyes brightened. She forgot all about her windblown hair, her embarrassment, and the nonexistent traces of drool over her mouth and his sleeve. She began the tale, relating the wonder of the Marian apparition in Mexico City back in the 13th Century. She told it with such fervor that Taewoon had no room to question her devout heart or her nationality.

 

“So, you’re from Mexico?” he asked after she had relayed even the scientific facts that supported the miraculous encounter.

 

“Close! I’m originally from America, but my mother was Mexican and my father was born in the States but lived in Mexico until he met my mom. I lived in Mexico City with my aunt for a few years before coming here.”

 

She spoke with animated tones, gesticulating her words here and there. Taewoon had fun just watching her speak. He also noted that she had no problem looking him in the eye after her initial embarrassment. He could see the strength and confidence in her chocolate eyes.

 

“You shouldn’t tell just anyone your life story. There are some real creeps out there.” Taewoon pulled his mask higher up his nose.

 

Eun Mi looked at him for a moment before shrugging. She settled back against the marble base. She was lost in thought for a while, twirling the rosary beads between her fingers, her eyes looking straight ahead.

 

“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” she said eventually. “You have kind eyes.”

 

Taewoon didn’t know what to make of that statement.

 

* * *

 

“Eun Mi!”

 

Eun Mi turned in the direction of Su Jong’s voice.  She saw him walking quickly, his colorful hair hidden under a cap, his head shielded by his jacket’s hoodie, and a mask on his face.

 

Taewoon stood, offering her his hand. She took it; it was so much bigger than hers. They both noted the difference in their heights: an entire foot.

 

“Hey,” Su Jong nudged her lightly on the shoulder. “What are you doing? Manager Jo is looking for you like crazy! How long have you been here?”

 

Eun Mi took Su Jong’s hand in hers, turning it over so she could check on the time. “About an hour or two. It hasn’t been long.”

 

“Seriously,” Su Jong took his hand back, “do you think you can get away with this just because you’re a favorite? Everyone is worried sick every time you do this.” He gave her head a few taps in scolding.

 

She pushed his arm away, raising her own fist as if she would retaliate with a punch of her own, inhaling sharply between her teeth. Su Jong flinched.

 

Taewoon laughed. He was really starting to like this girl, Eun Mi.

 

“Stop being fussy and say hello.”

 

“Good morning!” Su Jong instantly bowed to Taewoon. “Thank you for taking care of my friend.”

 

“Hey! Who said he was taking care of me?”

 

“Since Sister Redemption isn’t around and he is, isn’t it a given that he babysat you?”

 

Eun Mi smacked his arm, her words flowing out in a stream of beautiful Spanish. Taewoon watched and listened, amazed.

 

“Stop being mean and take off your hoodie.”

 

Su Jong cross his arms over his chest as he took a dramatic step back. “We’re in a church!”

 

Eun Mi smacked his arm again. “You shouldn’t make those kinds of jokes because we are in a church. Let me borrow it, please?”

 

Shrugging, his eyes squinting in a cute eye smile, Su Jong did as she asked. He looked from Eun Mi to Taewoon.

“Hyung-nim, it was a pleasure meeting you,” Su Jong bowed again.

 

“Eh? Oh, um, yes. It was a pleasure meeting you, too,” Taewoon returned the bow.

 

“I’ll be waiting in the car.” Su Jong said. He bowed to Taewoon again and disappeared the same way he had come.

 

“Is he an idol?” Taewoon asked. Only idols went out as covered up as Su Jong and himself.

 

“Yes.”

 

Taewoon had asked the question not really believing that Su Jong was a celebrity. Eun Mi’s casual assertion left him at a loss for words.

 

“Um, I’m sorry about drooling on your sleeve.” She offered him Su Jong’s hoodie. “Su Jong is around the same size as you; I’ll take your jacket and wash it.”

 

Taewoon stared at her. “Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

 

“Please? I didn’t mean to and, well, you didn’t have to let me sleep on your arm. I’ve been told I can’t hold my head when I sleep… Please, I promise I won’t damage it.”

 

The sincerity in her eyes made something melt within him. He felt sorry for having teased her. He also didn’t know how to tell her that she hadn’t really snored or drooled.

 

Taewoon didn’t really want to lie to her. He also really wanted to see her again. Slowly, he unzipped his jacket and handed it to her.

 

The way her face lit up made him blush beneath his mask. Her smile pushed her cheeks up, forcing her eyes to become cute crescents. Her nose also scrunched up slightly with the action.

 

“I’ll be sure to bring it back clean! It was a pleasure meeting you, please get home safely!” She bowed to him and waved as she walked away.

 

“Wait!”

 

“If I don’t see you again, I’ll leave it with Sister Redemption! You can leave Jongie’s with her. Bye bye!”

 

Before he could say anything else, she was gone. Taewoon was left standing there with his arm outstretched, a hoodie slightly small on him, and a whole lot of questions left unasked.

 

“She could have at least asked me my name.”

 

* * *

 

Eun Mi crashed into the back seat of the white car Su Jong had arrived in. Tae Jun sat on the driver’s seat, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in a methodical rhythm Eun Mi knew all too well.

 

“Oppa.”

 

“Don’t you ‘oppa’ me, Song Eun Mi.”

 

Eun Mi winced. She settled in her seat, her seatbelt secured tightly around her. She was grateful that Su Jong had volunteered to go get her. If Tae Jun had found her sitting out there with a complete stranger, no mask on, and carefree, she would have had a long lecture to look forward to.

 

It wasn’t that Eun Mi was careless, nor was it that she believed something bad wouldn’t happen to her—it already had—, she simply had not wanted to make an occurrence that felt sweet become one to be weary of.

 

Her insomnia had returned with a vengeance the night before. She’d spent countless hours walking around in her room before she’d decided to pay _Mami Lupita_ a visit at St. Cecilia’s. She had just intended to pray a rosary, but sleep had assaulted her.

 

She hadn’t been fully asleep, not really. If her head had no kind of support, her neck lolled this way and that, preventing her from having any rest. It wasn’t until that young man had lent her his arm that she had really slept at all.

 

Eun Mi smiled. He had such nice eyes. They were big, gleaming, warm, and kind. Eun Mi loved his eyes the moment she’d seen them. They’d remained kind and warm as she spoke endlessly about Our Lady of Guadalupe.

 

Carefully, she folded his jacket, placing it on her lap with her hands on it. She felt mortified at the thought of having drooled! But now, at least, she could hold on to the experience a bit longer.

 

Eun Mi had wanted to ask his name, but asking his name would bring complications. He was a celebrity as well. Eun Mi could tell from how he carried himself, the aura surrounding him, his mask.

 

She had not pointed it out how his voice seemed familiar as well. His eyes coupled with his voice struck a chord somewhere in her memory. She could not quite place them. Still, Eun Mi was sure that she had met him somewhere before.

 

Eun Mi, however, did not want to find out who he was. As much as she had wanted to ask him for his name, she knew that things would become warped, twisted the moment that he told her. So she had not asked.

 

Sighing, she placed her head against the window. She felt her eyelids becoming heavy, felt her body becoming lead. She wished herself back at St. Cecilia’s prayer garden just as sleep swallowed her.


	6. Good Morning Afternoons

Eun Mi sat outside the CEO’s office. She rested her head on the arm rest of the long, white leather sofa. She had one of her legs tucked underneath the other, swaying her foot lightly. Her eyes were closed.

 

“Ms. Eun Mi?”

 

She opened her eyes, looking at the secretary smiling at her. She sat up, resisting the urge to stretch her arms over her head.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Mr. Choi will see you now.”

 

Eun Mi nodded. Her foot had half-fallen asleep tucked underneath her, she half-limped into the slick, modern, black and white office.

 

The CEO sat behind a glass desk, his laptop pushed off to the side. His jacket hung from his chair, his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, his tie slightly loose. His black hair matched the shade of the furniture.

 

“Eun Mi.” He said her name in the tone that he always used to show that he was displeased; he reined in the words tightly, almost cutting the sound of each letter.

 

“Tae Jun oppa is going to pay for this one,” Eun Mi answered.

 

“Tae Jun is only looking out for you. We all are.”

 

She sighed dramatically, lowering herself onto the seat in front of him, tucking one leg—the one that wasn’t half-asleep—beneath her. “Nothing happened. I went to St. Cecilia’s.”

 

“It’s not that you went to St. Cecilia’s, Eun Mi, is that you went at an ungodly hour.”

 

Eun Mi frowned at her boss. “Sir.”

 

“At that ridiculous, dangerous, inappropriate hour,” Mr. Choi corrected himself. “My point, Eun Mi, is that the sun wasn’t even out yet.”

 

He inspected her face. There were dark circles under her eyes, her lips downturned at the corners. She sniffed every few seconds, pressing her fingers against her noise in an attempt at politeness. Every once in a while, she blinked rapidly, biting her lip, a sign of a stifled yawn.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

 

“I got a few hours this morning.”

 

“In the dorm?”

 

Eun Mi didn’t say anything. She didn’t like to lie, didn’t like the heavy aftertaste a lie left in her mouth, sticking her tongue against her teeth.

 

“At St. Cecilia’s.”

 

“Indoors?”

 

Eun Mi said nothing.

 

Mr. Choi exhaled sharply. “You slept outside? In this weather? Eun Mi!”

 

“I went to visit _Mami Lupita_. I fell asleep while praying.”

 

“Have you been taking your medication? Those pills were prescribed for a reason. You can’t be spending your nights awake and then sleep out in the open. Think of the dangers.”

 

This time, Eun Mi couldn’t prevent her yawn. Mr. Choi shook his head.

 

“Don’t go out anymore, not unless you take one of the managers with you. No, I’ll get you your personal manager.” He pressed a button on his phone.

 

“Yes?” came the reply of the secretary.

 

“Ms. Lee, please start looking into hiring a manager for Ms. Song Eun Mi.”

 

Eun Mi watched with wide eyes. “Mr. Choi, that’s not necessary. I will—”

 

He held up his hand, exchanging details with Ms. Lee. He furrowed his brow in the way that told Eun Mi he was serious. Whether she wanted one or not, she was getting her own personal manager—her personal babysitter.

 

She ended up leaving his office discouraged, scolded, and stressed. She pressed her forehead against her locker, feeling the cool metal bring up goose bumps on her arms. Eun Mi wished herself back at St. Cecilia’s, sitting before Our Lady of Guadalupe with her head resting on that man’s arm once more.

 

Heat flushed her cheeks, a smile played at the corners of her lips. She was glad Su Jong hadn’t mentioned the man she had been with. Mr. Choi had no doubt in his mind that she had been alone; Eun Mi really wasn’t one to go out and meet with men.

 

“Unnie!” DAEE entered the locker room with a spring in her step.

 

Eun Mi pulled herself together, smiling brightly at her. “DAEE, did the photo-shoot go well?”

 

DAEE grinned a toothy grin. “It was so much fun! I got to wear all these cool outfits that made me feel like a model! The photographer asked me if I had modeled before debut.”

 

Eun Mi giggled along with her, jumping up and down in excitement. DAEE’s eyes shone with brighter intensity, her confidence soaring.

 

“I knew you’d do great! I’ll definitely buy the magazine. You’ll have to give me your autograph.”

 

DAEE laughed, standing tall. She flipped her short hair, her nose held high. “I suppose I could give you one autograph.”

 

Eun Mi clapped her hands together. “Oh, thank you! DAEE, I’m such a fan!”

 

They laughed as they changed into their practice clothes. DAEE peeked over at Eun Mi’s locker, spotting the large, black hoodie that hung there.

 

“Unnie, is that Tae Jun oppa’s?”

 

“Hm?” Eun Mi looked from DAEE to the jacket. She shook her head as she pulled on her sweatpants. “No. Why would I have one of Tae Jun oppa’s hoodies?”

 

DAEE shrugged. “It’s too large to be anyone else’s.”

 

“DAEE,” Eun Mi shut her locker, twisting her hair up into a high ponytail, “it doesn’t belong to anyone within the company.”

 

“Unnie, are you dating someone?”

 

Eun Mi raised her arm, her fist clenched, her head bobbing up in a threatening gesture. DAEE squealed, backing off as she laughed. She held her hands up.

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

They laughed, exiting the locker room arm in arm.

 

“Did you girls have a party in there?” Su Jong fell into step with them. He handed Eun Mi a venti cappuccino from Starbucks.

 

“Jongie, you’re the best!” She gave him her brightest smile.

 

She took a cautious sip to test the temperature. It was cool enough to drink but still perfectly warm. Eun Mi nearly chugged the entire thing.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down there you caffeine addict,” he said.

 

“She drinks it like if it were soju,” DAEE pointed out.

 

“Oh, hush up, both of you.”

 

Their dance instructor was already waiting for them in the practice room. He looked up from his phone when he heard Eun Mi burst through the door with caffeinated energy. Tae Jun was already going through his warm up routine.

 

Eun Mi shot him a half-hearted glare. Tae Jun simply gave her ponytail a playful tug. She reciprocated by slapping him on the chest.

 

“Ugh!” Tae Jun clutched his chest as if he’d been shot, doubling over.

 

DAEE watched from the sidelines. She and Su Jong exchanged glances. Hers told him she believed their leaders were together.

 

“I know something you don’t,” Su Jong said in a sing-song voice, teasing her.

 

“No, wait, what?!”

 

They played around as they warmed up, joking and exchanging snarky remarks. Their professor joined them, laughing at their good-natured teasing.

 

“Eun Mi, what do you feel like today?” Jung Min Joon asked.

 

Eun Mi’s eyes glittered, crinkling at the corners, becoming smaller as her smile pushed her cheeks up. “SPEED!”

 

“ _Zombie Party?_ ”

 

“Yes!”

 

Min Joon laughed, playing her request and starting their four hours of practice.

 

* * *

 

 

When Zico woke up, early morning had come and gone. Bright sunlight outlined his curtained windows. His phone buzzed on the bedside table. The gleam of the screen made him squint. Kyung had been calling. Kyung was always calling.

 

Kyung was always calling.

 

Zico rolled out of bed, rubbing the back of his neck. He could feel his hair sticking out in all directions. He stuffed it under a snapback, washed up, and headed to the kitchen.

 

“Mom? Mo—oom.” His voice cracked, croaked, finally forcing him to clear his throat.

 

“You sound disgusting.”

 

Taewoon stood by the coffee pot, leaning against the counter as he ate a bowl of cereal. He’d been out jogging, his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He had a black hoodie thrown over one shoulder, his legs stretched out before him. A huge, lumbering bear; that’s how Zico always thought of his brother as.

 

“You look disgusting.”

 

Taewoon smiled a silly, tight lipped smile. He stuffed his mouth with another spoonful of cereal, pushing himself away from the counter to go sit at the breakfast table. He said something that came across as nothing more than mumbles.

 

“What?” Zico stared.

 

“I said,” Taewoon swallowed. “Mom went out to run some errands. She didn’t know at what time you would wake up, so she didn’t make any food for you.”

 

“Did she make you breakfast?” Zico rummaged around the fridge.

 

“Nah. I told her I would eat something light.”

 

“Are you on some kind of diet? Is SPEED having a comeback?”

 

Zico looked up from his search over to his brother when he didn’t answer right away. Taewoon was staring into his cereal bowl as if the milk and the floating oats held the answers of the universe.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, SPEED is having a comeback.”

 

Zico grinned, sitting across from him. “That’s great! Are you producing the songs? Do you want me to take a look at them? I’d love to listen to them!”

 

Taewoon sat back, rubbing his thighs. He ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek, his eyes focusing on the edge of the table. Zico’s grin vanished slowly.

 

“Hyung?”

“About that…I’m thinking about leaving SPEED.”

 

It took Zico several moments to process the information. “You’re…leaving SPEED?”

 

“I’m thinking about it.”

 

“If you’re thinking about it, it means that you’ve considered the thought for a while. It means it’s serious.”

 

Taewoon folded his arms across his broad chest, tucking his hands into his sides. His jaw moved, clenched and unclenched. Zico leaned back, leaving one arm on the table, the other falling onto his lap; he regarded his brother in silence.

 

“Hyung, have you talked it over with the members?”

 

He shook his head. “You’re the only one I’ve told.”

 

A warm feeling of importance coursed through Zico’s system. He gave a little nod, repressing the urge to smile.

 

“Would you leave MBK Entertainment, too?”

 

“I…don’t know.”

 

“Why?”

 

Taewoon met his brother’s eyes. “I want to focus on my career as a rapper, as a producer. I’m not sure the idol life is what I’m cut out for, what I want. I mean, I love being onstage. I love SPEED, but…”

 

Zico nodded. “Let’s say that you do decide to go solo, would you tell the company first or SPEED?”

 

“SPEED. Of course, I would discuss it with them first.”

 

“What if the company doesn’t allow you to go solo? Don’t you think that if SPEED knows about it, it would strain your relationship with them, especially as their leader?”

“Jiho-ah, if I approached the company first, was rejected, and then the members found out about it, the sense of betrayal would be greater.”

 

“What about your contract?”

 

This exchange went on for a couple of hours. Weighing the pros and cons of Taewoon’s actions, outlining a future that neither of them could actually predict. Speaking to one another this way always felt like talking before a distorted mirror. They were so alike, yet extremely different at the same time. Some people said that they were two halves of a whole; they liked to think of themselves as a cracked looking glass.

By the end of their discussion, noon had arrived. The early hours of the afternoon had begun while they talked. Taewoon began to feel uncomfortable in his skin; the sweat made his skin itch. Zico started remembering his schedule as his phone dinged with continuous reminders.

 

Taewoon felt reassured as he rose. “You better get going. That sounds like it’s important.”

 

Zico scrolled through his schedule. “Um, yeah,” he rubbed his neck. “I should hurry up. I’d totally forgotten about this.”

 

Reaching over, Taewoon pinched his cute little brother’s cheek. “You’re so cute.”

 

Zico swatted his hand away, raising his arm as if to punch him. Usually, Taewoon would have placed him in a headlock for being so disrespectful, but today, the gesture reminded him of something else.

 

“Jiho, do you know anyone named Su Jong?”

 

“Eh? Su Jong? You mean an idol?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah, sure I do. He’s the guy that disappeared from underground rapping back in 2009. He debuted back in 2011, a few months after Block B.”

 

“Really? What did he go by before?”

 

“ES-Jay.”

 

“Aah! Now I remember him!” Taewoon snapped his fingers. “What group did he debut with?”

 

“L6.”

 

“L6? Does it stand for anything?”

 

“Love Six.”

 

“I take it there’s six members.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Taewoon nodded, and nodded, and continued to nod. Zico knew he should hurry up and get going, but there was a sparkle in his brother’s eyes that made him pause.

 

“Why?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Why did you suddenly ask about Su Jong?”

 

“Oh, no particular reason.” He gave Zico a lopsided grin. “Have a good day, Jiho-ah.”

 

Taewoon’s back held a secret as he walked away from Zico. He could not quite make it out, could not quite guess the origin of his brother’s curiosity. That is how it was between them; they either knew everything or almost nothing about one another.

 

A cracked looking glass from which only a warped reflection of themselves could be seen and from which they could not always get a clear view. Zico supposed all siblings were like that, either too similar, complete opposites, or looking glasses.

 

His phone dinged once more, signaling that he had less than an hour to get to his first schedule. “Ah, shit.”

 

 


	7. Discussions

Noon signaled a lunch break for both L6 and CELESTIAL. Tae Jun ended up treating them all to black bean noodles, his apology for getting Eun Mi in more trouble than was deserved. They had claimed two large tables at the cafeteria years back and they still used them almost daily.

 

Su Jong slid into his seat beside Eun Mi, Chae sat to her right, Tae Jun across from her. Ieanna sat between the twins. Kain usually sat across form Dae Hyun, but today, he switched seats with Ryouta, who settled into the seat next to DAEE. Eun Mi did not miss the glance Tae Jun shot his youngest member and her rapper. It was loaded with suspicion.

 

She kicked him under the table. Tae Jun jumped in his seat, hissing through his teeth at her.

 

“Eey,” Su Jong pulled Eun Mi’s ponytail. “Don’t start a fight. I hate fighting before meals.”

 

Eun Mi answered by elbowing him in the ribs.

 

“Argh!” He held his side dramatically. “You’re such a thug!”

 

“If you stopped bothering her, she wouldn’t beat you up all the time,” ReNA said as she shook her bowl of noodles.

 

Eun Mi tuned out ReNA and Su Jong’s bickering. She shook her own bowl, thinking of the man she’d met at St. Cecilia’s. His eyes had been so kind. She wondered when she would be able to meet with him again. If she really did get a personal babysitter, she would have to leave his hoodie with Sister Redemption. She definitely didn’t want that.

 

She remembered his hands, large, broad, with fingers that were perfect in length. He’d smelled like outside, with a hint of perfume, the kind that old women used. Eun Mi wondered if he had hugged his grandmother before he left for his jog that morning. Well, she thought he’d been jogging. He’d been wearing outdoor clothing after all.

 

Eun Mi tried to remember as much as she could, but it had been so fast. She wished she had listened to Mr. Choi when he had insisted that she have eye surgery; her blurry contacts hadn’t helped her at all. She really should’ve kept her glasses on instead of putting the little things on. Her eyes must’ve been so red!

 

Tae Jun watched Eun Mi closely. Her eyes had lost focus as she mixed her bowl of black bean noodles. She’d set the bowl down and had not moved an inch for a good five minutes. Her eyelids draped her eyes, lower and lower they got as the seconds ticked by. He reached across the table, placing his hand on her forehead.

 

Tae Jun’s cool hand snapped her back into attention. Everyone had stopped eating to look at them.

 

“Are you feeling sick?”

 

“Hm? Oh, no, not at all!” She ripped the plastic from the bowl. The way in which she mixed the noodles would fool anyone into thinking she was a native.

 

“Unnie, maybe you should head back to the dorm, get some sleep,” Chae said.

 

Kain shifted in his seat; a movement that wasn’t lost on Eun Mi. They had a composing workshop after lunch. If she missed it, they would lose precious time.

 

“I’m alright, promise! I was just thinking about Hanoi.”

 

Ieanna yelped and giggled, smacking Dae Hyun’s arm in excitement. “Hanoi! I can’t believe all of us are going to Hanoi!”

 

“GOT7 is going too,” Ryouta said. “I can’t wait to see Jackson and Mark!”

 

“You just saw them last week,” Dae Jung tossed a ball of plastic at him. Ryouta caught it swiftly. DAEE grinned.

 

The conversation moved on. Their voices chirped in excitement, plans for their first overseas trip together were made, although they all knew they wouldn’t be able to do much aside from film Music Bank.

 

“Unnie! Did you hear who was going to be in Hanoi?” Ienna grinned at her leader.

 

Eun Mi’s stomach dropped with excitement. A smile spread across her face, almost tearing her face in half. Her eyes disappeared as her cheeks swallowed them.

 

“Au! Check that smile out!” Su Jong hooted.

 

“Your cheeks are eating your eyes again.” Kain teased.

 

“Don’t be a weirdo and stalk them,” Tae Jun grinned.

 

“Ush!” She threw her own plastic ball at him. “You’re so unpleasant! When have I ever stalked them? I’ve done everything healthily. I’m a healthy fan!”

 

They laughed. Eun Mi ate her food happily. Every now she would pause to talk, whispering with Chae in a failed attempt to keep Tae Jun out of her business.

 

“Do you think I should take my copies just in case?”

 

“You definitely should! You should also give them each a copy of our album.”

 

“Won’t that come off as presumptuous? I mean, we’ve never promoted together and we debuted a while ago.”

 

“I don’t think they’ll think it’s rude. It’ll just be difficult to get them to let us say hello. They are our seniors after all.”

 

Eun Mi gnawed on her lip. In the past, she’d been lucky enough to attend one fansign during each of their promotions. But now that she was an idol herself, she hadn’t been able to attend the last three fansigns. She had missed three eras, four if she included their debut, seven if she added their unit and solo activities.

 

Taking her copy of their debut album would definitely embarrass them; she had long ago accepted the fact that she would never have a signed copy of that mini-album. Still, she might be able to get at least one of her copies signed if she was polite enough. There was no way she could get all seven autographed!

 

“You could always ask Soyou unnie for help.”

 

Eun Mi’s cheeks flushed. “I really…If I do that she’s going to find out.”

 

“Unnie, I think everyone knows already. Do you really think your fans don’t know you have a favorite group? Why do you think they send you fan letters in envelopes that are close to their official group color?”

 

Eun Mi shushed her, slurping some noodles as she cast a sideways glance to Tae Jun. He appeared to be too engrossed on his phone to be paying much attention.

 

“I can’t ask that of Soyou. It could create a misunderstanding.”

 

“Then just say that it’s for someone you know. A friend or something!”

 

“I won’t lie.”

 

“Then you chose the wrong career,” Tae Jun said with an evil grin.

 

“Oppa!” Eun Mi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You drive me crazy!”

 

Tae Jun laughed and broke into song. Eun Mi screamed, covering her ears as she laughed, trying to kick him under the table and failing as he moved his legs out of reach. The entire table followed his lead, teasing her until her cheeks were unbearably hot.

 

She didn’t know it, but the other ten all exhaled with relief at seeing her laugh. Her eyes sparkled with the happiness her favorite group brought her. In them, they couldn’t see the shadow that had haunted her the past few days.

They didn’t know it, but Eun Mi’s eyes sparkled at the thought of sharing what had just happened with the man from St. Cecilia’s. She couldn’t repress the urge that had spontaneously combusted within her chest. She wanted to run to the church, sit beside him, and tell him all about how Tae Jun oppa teased her and how she hoped to get a copy of her favorite group’s album signed when she went to Hanoi.

 

She couldn’t help thinking she was being silly as she finished her lunch and followed Kain up to the fifth floor. She shook her head, trying to clear it. The time for daydreaming was over. She had work to do.

 

* * *

 

 

“You can’t do that to her. You can’t attach some wannabe manager to her hip only to babysit her!”

 

“She was out in the wee hours of the morning.”

 

“She’s a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. You made sure she could take care of herself.”

 

“She can’t do that if she falls asleep in strange places.”

 

“It was at church. You know she always goes to St. Cecilia’s. Sister Redemption knows to keep an eye on her. We’ve been through this hundreds of times.”

 

“Why does she always go there? Could she be meeting with someone?”

 

“Are you being serious right now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You can be a real idiot.”

 

“You can be real lenient.”

 

“We’re not getting into this discussion. We both know how our niece is. We both know she wouldn’t do something like that without telling us. She knows how all this works. You made sure of that.”

 

“Don’t talk like that. It makes me sound like an evil person that exploits people for his own benefit.”

 

“Isn’t that what the industry is about?”

 

“It’s not what _this_ company is about. I love all the kids. I help them as best as I can.”

 

“Then trust them. Trust Eun Mi. She’s wise beyond her years. I didn’t bring her here to be suspected and babysat. I brought her here so she could make a name for herself. Let her. Stop treating her like a child.”

 

“I’m just worried about her.”

 

“Then worry for her without suffocating her. She’s not that little insecure child you first met anymore. She’s strong. She’s stronger than any of us.”

 

“I suppose you’re right.”

 

“Don’t suppose it, I _am_ right. Now call your secretary and tell her to stop looking for a babysitter. I’ll see you both at dinner.”

 

“Honey, but what if she _is_ meeting with someone?”

 

“If she is, then _it’s about time_ she did anyway.”


	8. Dreams

Taewoon found SPEED huddled together in the center of the practice room. Their backs were curved, hunched, they seemed to be in deep discussion. Taewoon watched them, a hurricane of emotions destroying his chest.

 

It had been easy enough to talk to Zico about his plans, easy enough to say he would share his thoughts and plans with SPEED, but when push came to pull, Taewoon felt too nervous. He didn’t see individual memories in his mind when he looked at them, heard their whispering voices. Instead, he just felt the single great, solid weight of all their memories on him.

 

Sungmin caught his reflection on the large wall-to-wall mirror. He sat up straight, tapping Sejun hurriedly on the chest.

 

Taewoon forced a playful grin onto his face, striding forward with lunging steps.

 

“Talking bad about your leader while he’s not here? Is that what you’re doing?” He grabbed the two closest members, Taeha and Yuhwan, and head locked them. Their knees knocked together as they both reached to grab his forearms.

 

“Argh! Hyung!”

 

“Hyung!”

 

They scuffled for a while, the rest of SPEED joining forces to beat up their leader. It wasn’t until Taewoon was forced on his back with six other bodies on him that he called for a truce. Jongkook kept pretending to elbow him even after the other five had settled down. Taewoon grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back.

 

“I said truce!”

 

“Ow, ow, ow! Okay, got it! Ow, ow, ow!”

 

“What where you kids talking about?” Taewoon said, releasing Jongkook.

 

“Nothing much,” Jungwoo anwered.

 

“Oh, just stuff,” Yunhwan added.

 

SPEED would not look at him in the eye. It made Taewoon feel alienated from them before he had even said what was on his mind. He thought about backing out, about not saying anything at all. But then he would have to face Zico. He would have to explain to him why he had chosen the easy way out.

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing deeply. “I’ve got to talk to you guys about something.”

 

Taewoon gave them a few moments to steel themselves before he told them what he had been thinking about for months. They listened without moving. They didn’t say a single word or ask a tiny question. Instead, they all just looked at him with unwavering eyes.

 

The silence that followed his revelation made him tremble. He could not read his members’ expressions, so motionless they were. Taewoon resisted the urge to bite his lip, to reveal his anxiety.

 

“Hyung,” Yuhwan finally said. “Took you long enough.”

 

“What?”

 

SPEED erupted into noise.

 

“You took forever!”

 

“We already knew this.”

 

“Eey, you thought that we didn’t know?”

 

“We could tell! We could tell!”

 

“That mixtape pretty much gave you away,” Jungwoo said with a smile. “We’ve all talked it over, made our peace with it.”

 

Taewoon sat slack jawed. Sejun threw his arm around his shoulders, shaking him playfully. They teased him for being so dense, yet Taewoon still could not breathe a sigh of relief.

 

“I should go talk to the boss.”

 

SPEED nodded, smiling as if they knew something he did not. He rose to his feet and Jongkook nearly pushed him out of the practice room, all while wishing him good luck and waving his hand dramatically as if he would never be seen again.

 

A little smile played at the corners of Taewoon’s mouth. SPEED supported him. They had known his mind far longer than he had. They’d talked it amongst themselves before he had even thought of it deep into the night. It wasn’t difficult to see or admit that SPEED had grown considerably. It also wasn’t difficult to admit that their struggles had also wizened them faster than what was appropriate for their age. Taewoon had once heard Park Kyung say of Zico “He’s becoming an adult by pretending to be one” during an interview. Who was to say that that didn’t apply to anyone in the industry? Especially the leaders.

With the voices and laughter of SPEED behind him, the walk to the CEO’s office did not seem as long or forlorn as he imagined that it would be. Each step brought him closer to the future he desired, yet it took him further from the men he’d come to love as brothers.

 

* * *

 

 

_Eun Mi stood in the desert. The cracked land revealed the long drought that had spread across the state. There were no clouds in the sky, not a single one. There were no sand dunes either. The entire area was flat as far as the eyes could see. The sun beat down relentlessly. The wind blew harshly, breaking the already wrecked earth._

_And yet Eun Mi shivered._

_She wrapped her arms around herself, hanging her head to keep the eroded earth from stinging her face. She didn’t want to move; she’d been here before, a million times. She knew what would happen._

_Thunder cracked in a cloudless sky. Rain fell. The sun shone harder, brighter. The rain made her long hair heavy, made it cling and cake with the dirt that the wind carried. Eun Mi lifted her head to the heavens, choking back a sob._

_“When will you stop?!”_

_The earth trembled beneath her. She screamed as the world disappeared from underneath her. A black hole swallowed her, colors and shattered images piercing her vision through closed eyelids._

_Her ankles cracked as she landed on hard pavement. Her wrists twisted as she caught her full weight on them. Eun Mi lay on pavement; it was wet and hot. She knew better than to get up, she knew what would happen if she did, but looking through the dirty, tangled strands of her hair was more difficult._

_Time wouldn’t move so long as she lay on that deserted road. The sun wouldn’t set and the night wouldn’t dissipate. Night and day would coexist impossibly, shining down on her as it engulfed her in darkness._

_“Please…no…”_

_It didn’t matter how often she prayed, her pleas were never taken into account anyway. Eun Mi could spend hours, days, months, eternities laying on that road and she would always be forced to move. This time, the fluttering of little wings made her move._

_“Get off! Get off!”_

_Eun Mi pulled herself to her feet, staggering away from the swarm of moths that had descended on her. Their tiny wings flapped erratically as they followed her to the edge of the road. Sobbing, she collapsed on the wet earth._

_Screeching tires. The scent of burning rubber._

_She shouldn’t turn around. But she did. She always did._

_A brand new Sedan swerved out of the path of an eighteen-wheeler only to be T-boned by a Ford pick-up. Another eighteen-wheeler hit the nose of the Sedan, sending it spiraling. Somehow, it flipped, turned over on itself, and rolled down the road._

_“Mam_

_á! Mamá! Mamí! MAMÍ!”_

_Eun Mi ran as fast as she could. Her feet did not move fast enough. Her heart hammered in her chest. Tears burned her face, blurred her vision._

_“Hija…Hijita…”_

_She could hear her mother._

_“Mija…”_

_She could hear her father._

_She could hear the blaring honk of the eighteen-wheeler that was heading for them. How could it not see that the wreck that had stopped all traffic? How could he not see her parents were dying?!_

_“Mamá! Papá!”_

_She could see her mother’s hand reaching for her. She could see her father’s bright eyes losing their glow. She kept running. They kept dying._

_“Mamí! Papí!”_

_She was almost there. She stretched her arm as far as it would go, her hand reaching for her mother’s._

_This time she would reach them. This time she would save them. This time…this time…_

_This time the same eighteen-wheeler rammed into the Sedan, almost taking her hand with it. Eun Mi covered her ears and screamed. She screamed for her mother. Screamed for her father. She screamed and screamed and screamed._

_Eun Mi screamed and screamed until her own screams woke her up._

 

* * *

 

 

“Unnie! Unnie!” Chae shook Eun Mi as she tried to wake her.

 

A scream ripped through her lips, startling her awake. Chae jumped away, knowing that touching Eun Mi would only result in bruises and scratches.

 

“Unnie…”

 

Eun Mi didn’t acknowledge her. She hit her chest over and over, sobbing uncontrollably. Scared, Chae bolted out of the room.

 

“Oppa!! Su Jong oppa!!”

 

She ran down to the basement, crashing into the practice room without permission. Min Joon started scolding her for barging into a crucial dance practice but Chae ignored him.

 

“Oppa!” she grabbed Su Jong by the arm. “It’s unnie!”

 

Su Jong needed no explanation. He ran out of the practice room. Forsaking the elevator, he took the stairs two, sometimes three at a time. When he got to Eun Mi, he found her staring blankly at her hands.

 

“Eun Mi. Eun Mi-ah, look at me.” He cupped her face, tried to get her eyes to focus. “Eun Mi!”

 

He pushed her hair out of her face, inspected her and found the usual scratches on her arms. The skin glowed an angry red around each thin line. Su Jong pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair over and over as he rocked her back and forth.

 

“Did she take her medication today?”

 

Chae wrung her hands nervously as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I—I don’t know. She wasn’t in the dorm this morning. She—she came straight to the company.”

 

“Is your manager here? Where’re the others? Schedules?”

 

“Y—yes. They had a small schedule. T—that’s why unnie took a nap… She said she hadn’t slept much last night and I—Oh! I shouldn’t have let her!”

 

“It’s alright,” Su Jong held Eun Mi closer. “Don’t worry. She’ll be alright in a few minutes.”

 

Chae watched as she wiped her tears. No one knew what kind of medication Eun Mi needed, but they all suspected it helped her sleep. Once or twice, when she hadn’t taken her pills, she had woken up screaming. Su Jong was the only one that could clam her down; he was the only one that knew what nightmare caused her to lose control of her own body.

 

Chae had never witnessed it before. She didn’t know to do except leave the room so that her leader wouldn’t be troubled by knowing that she had worried her. She decided to head back down to the basement to apologize to Joon Min and the rest of L6.

 

Slowly, Eun Mi regained self-awareness. She recognized Su Jong’s embrace; it had grown stronger, bigger over the years, but it still felt so small compared to the pain that swallowed her whole.

 

Eun Mi cried into his chest because he expected it, because she couldn’t pretend she was okay in front of him. She didn’t apologize. He didn’t ask if she was okay. They both knew better than that.

 

“Take your pills tonight.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Don’t go out in the morning.”

 

“Okay.”

 

When Su Jong finally returned to practice, Eun Mi had collected herself enough to seek out Chae and head back to the dorms. The pretty blue bag in which she had placed the hoodie of the man from St. Cecilia’s rested on her lap the entire way home. She wanted to go to St. Cecilia’s, but she didn’t want to meet him in the state she was in, nor did she want to feel the bitter sting of disappointment if she didn’t find him there.

 

So Eun Mi went home, took her medication, and allowed herself to sink into a familiar darkness. Chae took over making dinner for the other members, resolving not to mention anything to them, except maybe that they should take better care of Eun Mi.

 


	9. Say It Isn't So

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while... Sorry! I tried very hard with this one and I'm a little unsure about it. Let me know what you think!

Park Kyung scrolled through the vastness of the World Wide Web. The articles glaring up at him made him yawn. Everything remained the same; netizens hated and stalkers stalked. Zico had already told him that he would be a producer in _Show Me The Money 4_ and whom he suspected would be auditioning. Nothing interested him. Nothing caught his attention.

In the background, Jaehyo took selfies, P.O. practiced his rap while U-Kwon and B-Bomb went over some of the choreography for their upcoming unit debut. Taeil napped and Zico was off doing who knows what in some busy schedule or other.

Jaehyo gave a low whistle, one he reserved for when he found something interesting or encountered a woman particularly beautiful. Kyung thought about ignoring him, but something nudge him not to.

“What is it?”

Jaehyo didn’t look up from his phone. Kyung scooted closer to him. “What are you looking at?”

“The girl Zico dumped. Did you know she’s not Korean?”

“What? Lemme see.”

Block B, sans Taeil, gathered around Jaehyo’s phone. U-Kwon looked at the girl on the screen as indifferently as ever as the rest gazed in wonder.

“What is she?”

“She’s Latina,” Taeil said from his place on the sofa, startling them all.

“How do you know?” Jaehyo zoomed in on her eyes. He couldn’t believe how large they were, how dark the eyelashes rimmed them.

“Tae Jun told me.”

“Have you met her?”

“Once. I bumped into Tae Jun on the street once and she was with him. Her name wasn’t Eun Mi back then, but it was still Korean.”

“Yeah, it says here that it used to be Song Ma Ri,” P.O. said. He was now looking at his own phone screen. “She’s Mexican-American. Her mother was born in Mexico and her father lived in a town on the Mexican side of the border and later moved to America. She was street casted on while on vacation in 2008 and was a trainee until her debut with CELESTIAL in the summer of 2013. She’s five feet and—hey! She’s two days older than Zico hyung!”

“She’s a ‘92 liner?” Kyung looked her up.

They poured themselves into the task of finding out more about her, all except Taeil who had gone back to sleep and U-Kwon that had gone back to practicing. They watched CELESTIAL’s music videos and found that while her outer image remained somewhat static, the charisma she projected with each concept greatly differentiated from the one before.

In the end, Kyung continued to look into her even when the others had returned to their previous activities. Zico had told him that she was the kind of person they both hated. The more he familiarized himself with her through interviews, variety show clips, and music shows, the less he knew what Zico meant. He could find nothing that supported Zico’s assurances that he would dislike her as well. To Kyung, nothing he found justified Zico’s behavior. Confused and put out, he pulled up her company’s official website.

B.Star Entertainment carried several celebrities with it; among them were several successful solo artists and popular drama actors. B.Star Entertainment had only just recently ventured into the K-Pop market with L6’s debut in 2011. CELESTIAL could still be considered rookies, though their stages said otherwise.

A single face out of the six in L6 appeared familiar to Kyung. He read the name underneath to be Su Jong, discovering that he also belonged to the ‘92 liner group.

Where were all these ‘92 liners coming from?

Kyung followed the link to Su Jong’s personal Instagram account. A picture of Su Jong pinching Eun Mi’s cheek while she slept in the practice room greeted him. The caption “Noona, wakey wakey! #practiceisexhaustingiknow” gleamed in blue. The picture was two days old.

He accidentally refreshed the feed as he tried to exit out. A video clip appeared when it finished loading. Kyung stopped. The caption underneath said “ _Zombie Party!_ ”

The clip showed Su Jong and Eun Mi with another boy and girl—that Kyung suspected were also part of their groups—dancing to SPEED’s _Zombie Party!_ Su Jong had tagged SPEED’s Taeha on it. When Kyung looked around, he found the screenshots of Taeha’s reply: “Wow~ I’m flattered! Thank you for loving SPEED! #L6 #CELESTIAL #hwaiting” followed by a line of blue heart emojis.

Kyung replayed the fifteen second clip over and over. The other girl showed an amazing talent at dancing, her body flowed with the music the same way B-Bomb and U-Kwon’s did. Yet Eun Mi still managed to shine. She took the center—a munchkin among giants—her bright smile and laughter sending a wave of tender feelings through his body.

Kyung was confused, extremely so. He did not dislike this girl, not in the least! So what could have Zico been referring to? He wondered if she had acted differently in person. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery. He stepped out of the practice room as he dialed Taeha’s number.

“H—hello?” Taeha answered after the fifth ring; he sounded out of breath.

“Are you practicing?”

“We’re taking a break now. What’s up?”

Kyung felt a little guilty. He hadn’t called Taeha in a while. “Do you want to have dinner later?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah. I miss you, babe.” Kyung laughed then paused. “Actually, there is a favor I need to ask of you.”

Taeha didn’t reply. Kyung took that as a sign to continue. “Are you close with L6’s Su Jong?”

“Yeah, we’re pretty close. You want to meet him?”

How Taeha could be so intuitive, Kyung was sure no one would ever know. Taeha possessed a gentle and kind personality; maybe that influenced or enhanced his intuition?

“Yes, definitely. I want to meet him.”

“Sure. I’ll ask him. Actually, we had plans for tomorrow, but I’ll see if he can meet tonight instead.”

“Great! And, um, Taeha?”

“I know. I’ll invite Eun Mi, too.”

“Wait—I mean—”

“Is this because of what happened? That one pilot that didn’t even make it to editing?”

“Kind…of…”

“Kyung, I’ll invite her, but if you’re planning to apologize on his behalf, don’t.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll text you later. We’re starting practice again.”

Kyung thought long and hard after the call ended. Everyone seemed to be siding with Eun Mi, from the production team to Taeha. Now, Kyung was convinced he had to meet her. Zico could not be one hundred percent wrong—could he?

* * *

The restaurant was small, set aside from the larger, more populated districts, and family owned. Kyung frequented it enough to know that it would be packed with people that either knew nothing about or didn’t care about idols. Taeha had tagged along once or twice in the past; he had assured Kyung that he could find it again.

Kyung, however, was not concerned with Taeha, as awful as that may sound. His primary concern was Eun Mi. The more he thought about her, the greater mess his nerves became.

He wanted Zico to be wrong. He wanted Zico to be right.

He did not know what he wanted. He had started to wonder why he was placing himself through needless unnecessary situations when Taeha walked in. Kyung raised his hand automatically, but he had already been spotted. Taeha smiled kindly, a friendly smile, a very Taeha smile.

“Long time no see!”

“Uh, oh, yeah.” Kyung scooted over as Taeha settled down next to him.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for Hanoi?”

“You know about that?”

Taeha gave a brief laugh. “Who doesn’t?”

“Oh. Right.” Kyung did not mean to absentmindedly rude; his heart and mind both raced and raced.

Had he done the right thing? Should he even be here? He could always leave. He could excuse himself before she even arrived, apologize to Taeha for making him come out so late and so far, ask him to forget the entire thing ever happened.

“Why are you here, Kyung?” Taeha suddenly asked.

“H—huh? What do you mean?”

“Why do you want to meet Eun Mi?”

“I—I don’t know. It was—something Zico said—and…”

Taeha raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t believe anything he said about Eun Mi. Not after that filming.”

“You shouldn’t believe anything you hear about Zico after that filming, either.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s exactly what you meant. How long have you known this Eun Mi? No, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve known her, the truth is that you’ve known Zico far longer. Hell, your leader is Taewoon hyung!”

While Kyung’s voice tightened with every word, Taeha’s eyebrows knitted together. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it shortly afterwards. Kyung did not relent; he stared at Taeha, his own expression scrunched up tightly.

“Su Jong! Jongie! I found it!”

Kyung whirled in the direction of a young woman’s voice. He found her standing at the entrance, propping the door open with her hips as she waved someone outside over. A large, off-white bow tied her hair back, out of her face; thick locks resting on her shoulders or against her back. She turned to smile at the people that gawked at her.

“Hello!” she bowed while she held the door. “I am so sorry I’m letting the cold air in. My friend is almost here, promise!”

“You should just close the door then,” said one of the men closest to her.

“Yes, sir.” Eun Mi stepped aside. The door shut gently with her still outside.

“No, wait!”

“Eey! Why did you tell her that?”

“I didn’t mean—!”

“What an obedient child. Her parents must be proud.”

“Hey, go tell her she can come back in!”

Taeha left his seat, heading to the entrance with quick steps. There was a great, big grin splattered over his face. Carefully, he opened the door, peering outside.

Eun Mi stood on the inner sidewalk, away from nonexistent traffic. Her bag rested against her leg, the blue strap cutting across her brown sweater. She stood with mock impatience, her head tilted slightly to the left, hands on her hips.

“Su Jong-ah! Hurry!”

“He’s always late.”

Eun Mi beamed at Taeha. “You know it.”

Su Jong stood at the other side of the street looking sullen. “Hey! Oh Taeha! You better not be talking shit about me!”

“When would I?”

“When wouldn’t you?”

“Ush! Just shut up and hurry!”

Su Jong waited for the car that had just rounded the corner to crawl by before he dashed across the street.

“Did you have to wait for that car to drive by? That _one_ car?”

“Street safety first.”

“It wasn’t even near us!”

Su Jong threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close while winking in Taeha’s direction. “I just wanted to hear your beautiful voice calling out for me.”

“Ugh. Gross.” Eun Mi elbowed him, stepping out of his embrace. She stood by Taeha; they both watched Su Jong hold his injured side overdramatically.

She looked up at Taeha. “Keep that nasty, greasy thing away from me.”

“I’m hit! I’ve been mortally wounded!”

Taeha shook his head, opening the door for Eun Mi. “If she really wanted to, she could’ve broken your ribs.”

When Eun Mi walked into the restaurant, she felt a powerful set of eyes that gave her pause. She stopped so suddenly that Taeha bumped into her. Su Jong, coming in last, looked over his shoulder to see what the holdup was.

“Oh? It’s Park Kyung.”

“You know him?” Taeha asked.

“Not personally. I’ve seen him around. I think we met once while I did underground. I can’t quite remember.”

Taeha placed his hands on Eun Mi’s shoulders, gently guiding her forward. “Kyung’s a great guy. He’s also a ‘92 liner.”

Kyung expected tension. He expected Eun Mi to refuse meeting him or for Su Jong to protest against his presence. Anything even remotely related to Zico should have been cause for alarm. That is how Kyung thought.

But Eun Mi smiled warmly at him as Taeha introduced him. Su Jong acknowledged him with mild interest, but soon lost any concern and busied himself talking with Taeha.

“Did you have a good day?” Eun Mi asked as she slipped out of her coat. She folded it inside out then set it on the bench beside her, pulling the strap of her bag up and over her head. Her eyes never once left Kyung.

“Oh, um, yeah. Did you?”

Her eyebrows knitted together slightly; her brow smoothed out a few seconds later. “It was a little busy, but it was good. I hope you have a better day tomorrow. Is Block B doing okay? Are you ready for Hanoi?”

“You know Block B?”

Eun Mi laughed softly; the sound of conversations drowning out her melody. “Yes, I know Block B. I mean, you’re the third member I’ve met. Mr. Taeil was the first. I was out with Tae Jun oppa that night. We bumped into each other. Tae Jun oppa introduced us.”

Kyung sized the opportunity. “And Zico?”

Several things happened at once. Taeha’s hand froze halfway to his lips, a cup held between his fingers. Su Jong, who had been keeping an ear on their conversation tensed. And Eun Mi, Eun Mi’s smile faltered briefly before returning. It shone with sincerity, along with hurt.

“We… we didn’t seem to get along when we met. I think I might have done something to upset him but I don’t know what.”

“Eun Mi,” Su Jong cautioned.

Kyung’s eyes flashed in his direction briefly before returning to Eun Mi. He didn’t want to come across as a jerk, but he had to know.

“What did he do? Was he a jerk to you?”

Eun Mi smiled with her tongue between her teeth. Her eyes had lost some of their cheerful gleam. Just then, the waitress arrived with their food.

She beamed at her as she helped her set everything down. The waitress, probably in her teens, stole some glances at Taeha from behind her glasses. Every once in a while they would slide down her nose and she would rush to push them up.

This didn’t escape Eun Mi’s attention. She placed a tender hand on the girl’s forearm. “Are you a DEEPS by any chance?”

The waitress’ face flushed. She opened and shut her mouth, small gasping noises escaping. Her hand covered her mouth as she nodded.

Taeha rushed to stand, offering her hand. “Oh, thank you so much!”

The girl squeaked, gripping her apron. “M-my hands are dirty.”

Taeha rounded the table, a wide smile on his face. “It’s alright. Our DEEPS’ hands are sacred and beautiful.”

She hesitated, but when Eun Mi handed her a wet hand wipe she gratefully took it. She also cupped her hands in appreciation as Eun Mi shared a flowery scented hand lotion with her. Taeha’s smile never once wavered as he waited for his fan.

“Do you want a picture with him?” Su Jong winked.

“Actually, I kind of want a picture with her!” Taeha said with a giddy smile.

“You cutie,” Su Jong said.

“You guys are making her nervous. What’s your name?” Eun Mi asked.

“H-Ha Na. K-Kim Ha Na.”

“Kim Ha Na. What a pretty name!”

After a while, Ha Na’s nerves had subsided enough to shake Taeha’s hand. She also admitted to being a fan of Block B and L6.

“You have excellent taste,” Eun Mi said.

“Unnie, you’re so lucky! Whose coordi noona are you?”

Kyung expected Eun Mi’s kindness to fall off of her like a false second skin. She couldn’t be such a nice person, not when a stranger flat out confused her for a coordinator. Kyung had met several idol girls that hated being mistaken for a fan or a coordinator. Their kind smiles, friendly faces fell as quickly as they put them on. Kyung hated those kind of girls, the fake kind; the ones that walked about holding up appearances. No matter how beautiful they were, the moment they faltered and their masks cracked or fell right off, Kyung hated them.

Zico hated fakes, too.

Kyung thought this was it. This was the moment Eun Mi’s mask fell right off. He would see just what an ugly person she truly was and he would understand Zico one hundred percent.

He watched Eun Mi closely as she returned Ha Na’s cellphone. Her smile stayed in place. She moved a long strand of hair out of the way, tossing it over her shoulder absentmindedly.

“I’m not their coordinator, but if I had to choose one of them,” she paused, her chin between her fingers. She looked them all up and down. “I don’t know… Which one do you think would be the most difficult to deal with?”

Ha Na looked apologetic, but she went along with Eun Mi. “I think…Su Jong oppa?”

“Hey!”

Eun Mi burst into laughter. Her laughter started out loud then faded into soft huffs and hiccups. She held her stomach, sinking down into the bench. She was genuinely laughing! Kyung could not believe how hard laughter hit her.

Kyung stared.

“She’s not a coordinator at all,” Taeha explained. “She’s part of CELESTIAL. Song Eun Mi of CELESTIAL.”

“She’s the leader, in fact,” Su Jong added as he shot her rueful look. “A leader that always laughs at my misfortunes.”

Ha Na handed Eun Mi a glass of water as she apologized.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know!”

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry about it!” Eun Mi dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

“Y-you just look so different in person! Y-your eyebrows aren’t s-straight and y-your hair is wavy…”

“I don’t do my makeup when I go out. Well, not like how I do it for broadcasts and such. My hair is naturally wavy like this. I have my mom’s hair.”

“M-my brother is a fan of CELESTIAL. I-if I go call him would you take a picture with both of us?”

“Certainly!”

Kyung did not know how to react. The table soon returned to normal during Ha Na’s absence. Eun Mi congratulated them for their triple kill. Taeha looked especially happy.

“You miss DEEPS so much, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Cheer up! We haven’t forgotten you!”

Kyung asked, “Are you DEEPS?”

“She’s DEEPS, BBC, and AMORES,” Su Jong said as he placed the pieces of meat on the grill. “Actually, she’s our first AMOR. She also came up with that fan club name.”

Eun Mi smiled again with her tongue between her teeth. “I didn’t think it would become the official fan club name, though. I’m happy that it did!”

“Wait, so, you’re multi-fandom?”

She directed her smile at him, the idol girl whose face shone bare, the foreigner with almost perfect Korean language and manners. She wore no mask. This girl was simply herself. She was so much herself that Kyung did not know what to make of her.

“Yes. Actually, I have a copy of _Very Good_ in my bag. When Taeha mentioned that you might be here tonight, I couldn’t help it. Would it be too much to ask for your autograph?”

“Not at all! I’d love to sign it for you!” Kyung blushed.

“You should teach her your trademark ‘Aight,’” Taeha said as he munched on some side dishes. “You’re her favorite member.”

This time, it was Eun Mi’s turn to blush. “Oh Taeha!”

“Really?”

She nodded, fiddling with a strand of hair, twisting it this way and that between her fingers.

“She thinks you’re really funny, talented, and she especially loves your shoulder dance,” Taeha continued.

Eun Mi groaned in embarrassment, hiding her face behind her hands. “Stoooop iiiiit!”

“Are you trying to be cute in front of Park Kyung?”

Su Jong just had enough time to dodge the wadded up napkin Eun Mi threw at him with deadly good aim.

When Ha Na returned with her older brother, Eun Mi had had not time to recover. The older boy blushed at her blush and bowed continuously as she bowed to him while they shook hands. They ended up bumping heads, which only made Eun Mi laugh hard.

She assured them that they would post it on SNS so long as they didn’t say where they had met. “This is Kyung’s favorite restaurant. I don’t want a wave of fans coming here just to see him. I’d rather they come for great food and be respectful.”

Ha Na and her brother swore they wouldn’t give their location away. She signed the three copies of CELESTIAL’s mini-albums that the young man had brought along. He asked her to sign his apron and she did.

“Unnie, you’re really pretty,” Ha Na said with a blush. “Can I be your fan too?”

Eun Mi grinned. “I’d be honored!”

“She’s always stealing our fans,” Taeha whispered to Kyung. “Fan service just comes so naturally to her. Better watch out or all BBC will be taken from you.”

“I’m sure she would send them back to me. She’s a BBC herself after all.”

“Eey, you’ve fallen for her haven’t you?” Taeha teased, elbowing him playfully.

“She has a friendly charm. I like her.”

Taeha nodded knowing exactly what he meant. “She’ll probably send him brand new copies of their albums with all of the members’ signatures. Su Jong will also send Ha Na copies of L6’s albums.”

“They do that?”

“Yup. I’m sure they get in trouble for it, but they always find ways of doing things like these for their fans. Eun Mi, especially. She knows what it’s like to be a fan, so she takes great care of everyone’s fans, not just CELESTIAL’s.”

“What’s their fan club name?”

“A.Borealis.”

“A.Borealis? That sounds vaguely familiar.”

“It stands for Aurora Borealis.” Eun Mi took her seat as she gave one final wave to Ha Na and her brother.

“Really?”

Eun Mi explained the origin of their fan club name, sharing how the fans had wanted something meaningful, amazing, something that would tie them to the heavens, to CELESTIAL. She then ventured into astronomy. That eventually led into Greek mythology and literature. Kyung found out just how intelligent Eun Mi truly was, how much substance her conversations could contain, as well as how she had spent many months before a computer only to receive her B.A. in English from one of the universities in America.

The night grew old, the day young. Before they knew it, time had flown by. Su Jong rubbed his full stomach as he told Eun Mi they should get going.

“Hey, let me give this back to you in Hanoi.” Kyung raised her copy of Very Good. “I’ll get everyone to sign it.”

“You will! Thank you!”

Kyung ended up exchanging numbers with both of them before they left. Su Jong had helped her into her coat and she’d let him. They’d said goodnight to Ha Na and her brother as they’d walked out the door.

Kyung sat beside Taeha in silence.

“So?”

“So.”

So Zico had been wrong. Kyung didn’t hate Eun Mi. He liked her. He’d become her friend. And instead of solving the mystery, it simply grew bigger. 


	10. Starlit Threads

Taewoon found her pacing the prayer circle. She held a blue polka-dotted bag in one hand as she kicked her feet out with every step. She wore a loose white sweater over a dark skirt; her legs were covered with leggings with her high-top white Converse hidden by leg warmers. She looked extremely warm and cold at the same time.

Her ears were obstructed by wireless headphones; he assumed her devices were in the tiny bag she carried slung across her body. Her lips moved along with whatever she was listening to. Taewoon focused on them, but whatever it was that she was saying did not seem to be in Korean; he could not make out the slightest of words.

Sister Redemption walked up beside him. She tucked her hands within the sleeves of her habit, looking ahead at Eun Mi, taking in her march-like walk.

“She’s been waiting for over four hours.”

Taewoon’s eyes widened as he snapped his head around to look at the tender nun. The tiny lady had not moved an inch, her wizened eyes remained on the young woman that continued to go round and round. They were standing a few ways off so that she may not see them.

“Four hours? Sister, why didn’t you ask her to leave the jacket with you?”

“She did come for you, Ji Seok-ah, but she also comes here almost every night when she can’t sleep. The poor child, she’s dead on her feet but sleep won’t come to her. The only difference tonight was that she came looking for you. She decided to wait, but I’m sure she lost track of time praying.”

“She’s been praying all this time?”

“It’s all she ever does when she comes,” she said in a voice cracked with age. “She’s the reason St. Cecilia’s has a prayer garden to begin with. We were a small church at first with an empty plot of land we had no funds for. When Eun Mi started coming here for Mass, she eventually came at night when insomnia struck her. The company gave us the funds for the garden, with the condition that we include a small shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe for Eun Mi’s sake.

“We all keep an eye on her here. She’s almost a part of the parish in the same way we nuns are. She’s helped out in so many events even when she’s been busy. We are aware of and support her endeavors, however, we do wish she would quit the entertainment business and focus on her health. Our community only knows her as Song Ma Ri, not Song Eun Mi.”

“Song…Ma Ri?”

“That is her legal name.”

“Her real name?”

Sister Redemption turned her gentle eyes on him. “Ji Seok-ah, Ma Ri is a precious flower of Our Lady, no matter how strong she is, she is fragile. I trust that you will treat her as she deserves; kindly and with great love. She may have come for you tonight, but this is a great sanctuary for her. Fill it with gems, not stones.”

She placed her hand on his arm, smiling gently.

Her words burdened Taewoon, made him fear approaching the meandering woman. Sister Redemption never minced her words; she communicated things gently, but with great earnest and meaning. That same directness is what had propelled him to come visit when she’d called him an hour before.

“Ji Seok-ah,” she’d said in a voice so soft he’d hardly been able to hear her, “could you stop by St. Cecilia’s tonight? Eun Mi-ah is here. She’s been waiting for you out in the garden.”

Taewoon had given Sister Redemption his phone number for emergencies; she had never once used it until today. Clearly, Eun Mi was someone dear to the sister’s heart. Looking into the old eyes of such a gentle and devout woman, Taewoon could not help but nod a promise.

Sister Redemption turned to go, nodding her own head. Something she said suddenly struck Taewoon with immense force.

“Sister, you mentioned a company and industry. What did you mean?”

“Eun Mi is a celebrity, just like you. I believe her group is known as CELESTIAL,” she said. “Surely you knew that?”

Astonished, Taewoon shook his head. “No, Sister, I did not. I thought…I thought she was just a normal girl.”

Sister Redemption gave his cheek a gentle pat. “Son, that child is anything but ordinary. You’d do well to keep her close.”

With that, she returned to her modest room in the annex building of the church.

Eun Mi had stopped walking the path of the circle. She lay at its center, the bag carefully placed beside her, her hands on her stomach. Dark hair sprawled itself across the still yellow lawn.

Taewoon took slow steps towards her. Every footfall brought him closer to a complicated encounter. Every intake of air chilled him. Every sway of her head, back and forth, back and forth, lured him closer.

He held his mask in one hand. He did not put it on.

Crouching down beside her, he placed his hands on her headphones, removing them as he lost himself within her gleaming eyes.

“You’ll catch a cold laying on the grass like that, Miss Song Eun Mi.”

“You’re late, Mr. Woo Taewoon.”

* * *

 

Woo Taewoon.

Eun Mi could not believe her eyes. Woo Taewoon was the man she’d met a little over a week ago. Woo Taewoon was the man that gave her butterflies, made her cheeks burn timidly. Woo Taewoon, the man she had admired from afar on several occasions—and oh my gosh, she had drooled on him!

Eun Mi tried to sit up, to smooth her hair and appear coolly indifferent at the same time. She could feel the heat under her skin, the crawling feeling in her stomach, the manner in which her heart pounded.

Taewoon placed a hand to her back, helping her straighten up. She’d been on the ground for quite a while, strands of grass clung to her sweater, her hair. He plucked them out, using it as an excuse to touch that thick, luscious black hair.

“What are you doing here so late? It’s cold out.”

Eun Mi took the mask he held in his hand. She reached up, securing it over his face. “You shouldn’t go around showing your face like that. What if there are media outlets following you?”

“Me? What about you?”

She laughed softly. “I’m a ninja. People can’t see me if I don’t want to be seen.”

“Lies,” Taewoon laughed.

“I’m not lying! Just making stuff up.”

“That’s lying.”

“No, it’s storytelling.”

They looked at one another briefly before laughing. Eun Mi brought her hand up to cover her gaping mouth, the sound of her hiccupping laugh still filled the quiet garden. A gust of wind made her hunch up, her arms folding themselves around her. She gave a violent shiver as her hair blew in every direction.

“C’mon,” Taewoon said as he gently pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go somewhere warm.”

Eun Mi stumbled, yelping at the prickling needle-like sensation on her foot. “Ow! Prickly foot! Prickly foot!”

Taewoon steadied her, laughing. She held onto his arms, giving one of them a soft smack.

“Don’t laugh!”

“Then don’t make me laugh!”

Eun Mi laughed along with him as she wobbled beside him. He kept a firm grip on her, leading her to one of the Sunday school classrooms. She sat on one of the old sofas in the room.

“It’s just as cold in here as it is outside.” Taewoon turned on a single lamp.

“Father Theo turns off the heater at night to save money. Only the living quarters have heat at night.”

Basked in the orange-tinted lamplight, Eun Mi appeared almost dream-like. The manner in which her hair framed her face as it cascaded down made Taewoon hold his breath. Her skin made him think of coffee with milk, strong and sweet. Her hands, folded on her lap—trembled.

Taewoon pulled his mask down under his chin. “You’re freezing.”

“I get cold easily. It’s okay, if I shiver, I’ll warm up. That’s how our bodies work, or some science-y thing like that.”

“If you know you get cold easily, why are you walking around dressed like that? Where’s your coat?”

“I forgot it.” Eun Mi looked away. She wouldn’t tell him she forgot it because she’d been excited about meeting him again. Although, at that time, she hadn’t known if she actually would. She had the next morning free of schedules until after one o’clock, she figured she could stop by St. Cecilia’s and wait a while to see if he showed up. She’d just kind of…lost track of time.

Taewoon shrugged out of his jacket, wrapping her in it as he rubbed her arms. “It isn’t warm enough yet for you to even be dressed like that. Wait, did you come here right after a schedule? Is that’s why you’re dressed like this?”

She nodded. “I had an audition for a reality show.”

The spicy scent that clung to his jacket tickled her nose. His hands on her arms made her stomach and face burn pleasantly. If she continued to shiver, would he hug her? The thought made her breath catch. She fought back the urge to shake her head clear.

“How did that go?”

Taewoon sat beside her, his body angled in her direction. He stopped rubbing her arms, suddenly conscious of his actions. He placed his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands to keep them from touching her again.

“I think it went okay. I made them laugh a few times, so…”

Taewoon smiled. “I’m sure you did great.”

Eun Mi gave him a little smile, burying herself within his jacket. It fit so large on her it was almost like a blanket. She wanted to keep it.

“Oh! This is yours.”

She handed him the bag she’d brought along. Inside, his workout hoodie lay folded. The soft scent of flowery detergent wafted up to him. He was almost willing to believe the fabric would feel softer to the touch.

“Aw, damn, I didn’t bring Su Jong’s.”

“It’s alright. If you have time, you can leave it with Sister Redemption, like we said last time.”

“With Sister Redemption?” He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not want to see me again?”

“N—no! It’s not that! I’d love to see you again!”

Eun Mi gasped, pressing her hands against her lips. She bit her thumb nail, hoping that she would disappear.

Taewoon cleared his throat, feeling the heat rush to his face as pleasure coursed through his veins. He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting—and losing—against the smile that played at the corners of his lips.

“So, um, you’re an idol?”

“Yes.”

“When did you debut?”

“Mid-June 2013.”

“Same year as SPEED.”

“Yes. We didn’t promote together until 2014, though.”

“We promoted at the same time?”

Eun Mi nodded, playing with a strand of her hair.

“Once or twice during your _Don’t Tease Me_ promotions.”

She hadn’t expected him to know, they’d never met before this. CELESTIAL had crossed paths and watched SPEED from the sidelines before their own rehearsals. DEEPS and Eos were usually in the same room, but Eun Mi had only ever dared say hello to Taeha.

DAEE, on the other hand, was friends with Jongkook and Sejun. Ienna had gone out to dinner with Sungmin before while Chae and ReNA had charmed Yuhwan into buying them coffee once or twice. Jungwoo came and went, never really materializing within their circle of acquaintances, but never fully being absent either. Only Taewoon seemed to have missed their existence entirely.

Eun Mi had seen Taewoon up close. They’d ran right smack into each other backstage while she tried to find a coordinator unnie. He’d steadied her, given her an absentminded glance, apologized, and been on his way. He’d appeared to be extremely preoccupied.

His eyes had been clouded then, darkened by some problem that Eun Mi had no doubt originated from their line of work. Still, they’d retained their warm kindness as they’d briefly swept over her. Some part of her must’ve remembered that when they met again.

Taewoon didn’t know what to say. He thought he’d been interested in her, but he had not even taken the time to look up Su Jong’s name online and see if she popped up as a related term. He’d learned her name that first day. He could’ve looked into it. But he hadn’t.

He’d been so wrapped up preparing for his career as a soloist that he had even forgotten all about Eun Mi for a few days. He’d forgotten he had Su Jong’s hoodie neatly tucked away in his closet and that he had thought about dropping it off with Sister Redemption.

Taewoon had been sucked in by work. Again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been so focused on myself I didn’t—I never—”

“Oh! Mr. Taewoon, don’t apologize. I can see strong work ethic runs in your family.” She smiled, gathering the courage to reach over, to place her hand over his.

But Taewoon drew away, balling his hands into fists. “You know Zico? Are you two friends?”

The atmosphere turned cold. Even with his coat on, Eun Mi felt iced to the bone. Iced and hurt. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, disdainfully, accusingly. She sat up straighter, her eyes piercing him with their resolved strength.

“Yes, I’ve met Zico. We worked together once. I can’t say—” She caught herself. She couldn’t, she _wouldn’t_ , speak ill of Zico. No matter what had happened between them she would never say a single word against him, especially to his older brother.

“For work?”

“What else would I meet Zico for? Dinner?” Eun Mi scoffed, shaking her head.

Turning her away, she vented her frustrations in Spanish. “ _Dinner. As if he would ever. This is ridiculous. How frustrating! Virgen Santa, give me patience._ ”

“Ms. Eun Mi,” Taewoon said. “I’m—”

“I’m going home.”

Taewoon jumped to his feet when she stood. Panic gripped him. “No, please, stay a while longer.”

Eun Mi regarded him closely.

“I’m sorry. It’s just—when it comes to Zico—”

“Sibling rivalry?”

“Something like that.”

The dejected expression that twisted his features softened her mood. She placed a hand on his cheek, gently caressing his skin with her thumb.

“You’re not Zico. You’re Woo Taewoon, and…I like that.”

Their eyes locked.

Something ruptured between them.

It was as if a star exploded, showering them both with powerful threads of starlight, tying them together. They could see nothing; their surroundings were pitch black. They could only see one another, the threads of light pulling them closer and closer together until they almost suffocated.

Taewoon placed his hand over hers, sinking into her gentle touch. Eun Mi expected him to close his eyes. He didn’t. He continued to look at her. Every fiber of her being tingled with the warmth in his eyes. She could almost taste it, that melted honey that made all aches disappear.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so unsettled by how at ease he was. Eun Mi’s presence acted like a balm to his sore being. The way in which she slightly rose on her toes to reach his cheek, the tenderness of her thick-lashed eyes, and the softness of her hands made his world spin.

This was different.

Taewoon could tell that what lay before him was new, fragile, and powerful. He could feel it in the way his heart beat steadily, in the heat that made the palms of his hands too warm. Could she feel it too?

Eun Mi felt something, of course, but she did not know what it was. She’d never been so free with her affections, so unreserved, so unguarded. She wanted him to talk. She wanted to talk. She wanted him to share. She wanted to share. Was it normal to feel as if a hurricane destroyed the room they were in while they stood at the eye of the storm? Did such a feeling exist?

Taewoon watched her closely. He could see the novelty reflected in her eyes. He could lean in, kiss her… but he didn’t.

Eun Mi had already become someone much too precious to him. From the moment he’d first seen her carelessly sleeping by the little shrine of Our Lady, to her meandering walk around the prayer circle, reinforced by the sight of her shivering frame warming up in the protective shield of his jacket, and sealed by assertion of his identity, Taewoon had slowly fallen under her spell. The most astounding fact being that she had no realization of having cast it.

 


	11. Chocolate Rendezvous

Eun Mi should not be doing this.

She should not be getting up before dawn to wash her hair, spending extra time twisting it this way and that before simply clipping it away from her face with a pretty flower pin. She should not be carefully applying her makeup, lightly lining her eyes with liquid liner that really was quite unnecessary to begin with. She should not be second guessing the outfit so thoughtfully laid out the night before.

Eun Mi most definitely should not be sneaking out of the dorm without letting anyone know where she was going. Never mind that she had done it thousands of times before, the truth was that she always told Su Jong where she’d be. This time, however, she hadn’t even told him.

She tip-toed her way to the front door, listening to the snores of their youngest manager. She bit her lip, feeling a little sorry for the trouble she would cause if they woke up before she was back.

Eun Mi felt a little guilty, a little unsure, and a whole lot excited as she closed the dorm’s door behind her. She headed to the elevator, then thinking it over, ended up taking the stairs.

The wind was cold, but not vicious. She shrunk within herself, smiling with excitement as she placed a surgical mask over her face.

Song Eun Mi had somewhere to be.

* * *

Taewoon did not sleep a wink.

He got up before his alarm went off, showered, and dressed faster than ever. When he caught sight of his reflection, he pulled his shirt over his head and raided his closet. He ended up wearing the same thing he’d discarded; all black, with a long-sleeved plaid shirt over a black tee that brushed the back of his knees.

He listened closely for any signs of life outside his bedroom door, venturing out only when he was convinced that no one had stirred.

Zico’s sleeping figure on the living room sofa nearly killed him of a heart attack. He skidded to a halt, creeping the rest of the way to the front door.

Taewoon owed no explanations to anyone, really. He could always say that he’d gone out for a schedule of sorts, but today felt different.

Today was special. It was a day when no one could find out just what he was up to, where he would go, and who he would see. Today was a secret; one of the good kind.

He locked the door behind him softly, a large smile plastered on his face as he bolted towards his car.

* * *

The sound of a car’s engine roaring to life startled Zico awake. He fell out of the sofa, crashing loudly on the ground.

“Ow.”

Standing, he peeked through the curtains, catching a glimpse of his brother’s car exiting the driveway.

The sky was still dark. Zico wondered where his brother could be going so early for a second or two before staggering back onto the sofa.

The moment his head hit the cushion, he’d forgotten everything about Taewoon’s early morning escapade.

* * *

The café was tucked away between two boutiques. The scent of coffee beans swirled in the breeze, luring the would-be wanderers of the morning in.

Eun Mi slipped into the alley beside the shop. It never ceased to creep her out despite the many times she had been in it. The alley opened up into a small yard just beyond a tall fence. She pulled a tiny key from within her purse, a cherry blossom key chain dangling from one end. Inserting the key in dim lighting had become her specialty over the many summer days she’d worked the morning shifts. The gate swung open gently, quietly.

“Good job, Su Jong-ah,” she whispered. “You’ve been coming to help out!”

“Who’s there?”

“Auntie, it’s Eun Mi.”

“Eun Mi? What are you doing here, child?”

Ms. Kang stood by the back door, the porch light bathing her in faint light. She looked just as beautifully frail as the first time Eun Mi had met her, tall with a frame so thin she seemed to be made of paper. The only wrinkles discernible on her face where the ones on the corners of her eyes, the ones she’d acquired from smiling too much. Not even laugh lines tarnished her youthful face.

She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail for the morning rush. She even had her apron on. She wiped her hands on it as Eun Mi walked up to her.

“Did you come to help out? No, wait, that’s impossible. You leave for Hanoi the day after tomorrow, what are you doing here? Su Jong hasn’t even stopped by for a few days now.”

“A—auntie,” Eun Mi took her hands in hers. “Y—you see, I—well…”

Ms. Kang raised her eyebrows. “Eun Mi-ah, did you give someone our address?”

Eun Mi’s cheeks burned. “I—I know I should’ve asked you before, b—but it happened so suddenly! A—and I didn’t know where else we could m—meet. A—at least not somewhere safe.”

“How did you even get here, child?”

“A taxi. I got lucky.”

“How are you getting back to the dorms before the managers notice that you’re missing? Or did you let Jongie know where you’d be?”

Eun Mi’s silence gave her guilt away. Ms. Kang sighed, petting her daughter-like Eun Mi on the cheek.

“You’ve finally met someone. It was about time, too. You’ve been so focused on your career Minah and I worried that you wouldn’t give yourself time to meet someone.”

“I—It’s not like t—that.”

“Isn’t it? Well, should I call Jongie and tell him to pick you up later, then?”

“Please, don’t, auntie.”

Ms. Kang smiled. “Come inside. I’m sure you’d like to make him a drink yourself. Don’t worry, no one has clocked in yet and Jin isn’t due for another half hour. I’ll make sure to keep them away from the back porch.”

“Thank you, auntie!”

“But, tell me one thing,” her eyes glittered as she stroked Eun Mi’s soft hair. “Would he happen to be a member of L6?”

Eun Mi’s brow furrowed. “L6? Ew. Of course not.”

Kang Young Mi laughed heartily at her disgust. Everyone had expected Tae Jun to charm Eun Mi, but neither had seemed the least bit interested in the other aside from what was normal between friends and label mates.

Now she was curious. Choi Tae Jun ranked high in her list of boys she’d like Eun Mi to be with; she wanted to know just who had been the one to finally awaken Eun Mi’s blushing cheeks and fluttering heart.

* * *

Taewoon had no difficulty finding the café. He followed Eun Mi’s instructions, parking in the underground garage that belonged to the boutique to the right.

“The owner doesn’t open until mid-morning. She often lets us use the first spot on the left when we visit,” Eun Mi had said.

The deserted parking lot shone with eerie light, but nothing could deter Taewoon from feeling excited. Not even the narrow alley that he’d been instructed to follow or the empty yard just beyond the gate.

Eun Mi had arrived earlier just as she’d said she would, leaving the gate open for him. Nervously, Taewoon crossed into the property of the café, shoulders tense with anticipation.

The tiny backyard was empty. The light over the back door illuminated the tiny porch, drawing him to it.

He started to wonder if he should knock when the door swung open carefully. A woman poked her head out, her black hair just beginning to pepper with age. Once she spotted him waiting awkwardly, she exited the building. She placed her hands on her hips, examining him. Taewoon bowed self-consciously, resisting the urge to disappear into the earth.

“Well, good morning, tall stranger” she said with a small smile.

“G—good morning, ma’am.”

“I would introduce myself, but I’m sure Eun Mi would like to do that herself. C’mon, follow me.”

She led him down a hallway that opened up to a clean, organized kitchen. The scent of pastries tickled his nose.

“I just put those in the oven. They should be ready by the time the first wave of costumers hit. You kids will have about an hour to escape after the morning rush. Then we’ll get hit by our second wave. Eun Mi knows this, but I figured it would be a good idea to tell you. Did you park where Eun Mi told you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ms. Kang smiled at him over her shoulder. “You listen well, that’s wonderful.”

Taewoon’s lips twitched with a nervous smile. His nervousness soon gave way to excitement as he caught sight of Eun Mi behind the bar.

She looked tiny, lost among all the machinery required to brew coffee, yet she fit right in. She’d pulled her hair back in a loose low-ponytail, rolled up the sleeves of her soft yellow sweater, and donned an apron. She went this way and that.

“Auntie, who has the morning shift again?”

“Jin does.”

“Tell him that he should be careful when putting things away. Everything’s so cluttered! He needs to work on roasting the beans. They taste funny.”

Taewoon raised his eyebrows. Eun Mi sure was full of surprises. He hadn’t expected her to know anything about running a café, much less have some sort of barista skills.

“Eun Mi, have you finished with the drinks?”

“Yes, I’m just about—”

The sight of her turning around, with her hair falling over her shoulders, in a café setting with an expression of pure surprise made Taewoon’s heart stop.

“Mr. T—Taewoon!”

“Good morning,” he said with a smile.

Eun Mi rushed to pull her hair loose. She gave him her back briefly as she tried to calmly remove her apron and regain some sort of—well, there really was nothing to regain that wouldn’t be lost as soon as she saw him anyway.

“U—um, auntie, this is Mr. Woo Taewoon. Mr. Taewoon this is Miss Kang Young Mi, she’s Su Jong’s mother and my auntie.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Taewoon greeted her with a proper bow.

“Mister?” Ms. Kang raised her eyebrows after she’d returned his greeting. “Shouldn’t you be calling him ‘oppa’ instead?”

Both flushed a deep shade of red.

Eun Mi could not begin to imagine addressing him so familiarly! Taewoon, well, he really quite hoped that one day she would feel comfortable enough to drop all and every formality between them.

Ms. Kang, on the other hand, stood bewildered by the awkwardness that had settled between the two. Shaking her head, she shooed them out, handing Eun Mi the tray she’d loaded with small pastries, fruit, and yogurt cups.

“And stay out of sight!”

“W—we will.”

Taewoon took the unstable tray from Eun Mi, carefully balancing the weight in his hands, steadying the swaying mugs of steaming hot chocolate. She smiled at him gratefully as she led him to the back porch.

When he’d first arrived, Taewoon had not seen the quaint little sitting area. The pretty loveseat coated in vintage flower patterns with square and oval lace pillows was situated against the building’s brick wall. The coffee table before it had a vase with flowers on its surface. Eun Mi removed the vase, setting it on one of the smaller tables to the side of the loveseat.

“We use fake ones during the winter.”

Taewoon set the tray on the now available table, taking his seat beside her. She pulled her feet up, tucking her right leg underneath her as she propped her left one up; she wrapped her arms around this one and clasped her elbows.

She couldn’t stop staring at Taewoon. She wasn’t trying to memorize his features, there was no need for something so dramatic; Eun Mi simply wanted to look at him.

Taewoon could feel her gentle gaze on him as he reached for a small muffin and popped it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, wondering if she would say anything any time soon.

Suddenly, Eun Mi unfurled her legs, reaching for the steaming mug of hot chocolate. She offered it to Taewoon with an excited smile. He could already tell she’d been the one that made it. He found her excitement cute; it made her forget her shyness.

The beverage tasted extremely different from what Taewoon was used to. He could taste the chocolate she had utilized apart from the milk; the flavors assaulted his taste buds together and apart. He stared at the mug in his hand. Tiny grains of the sweet, sweet chocolate floated in the milk, at the same time solid and dissolved in the liquid.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, but, what is it?”

Eun Mi beamed taking a careful sip from her own mug. “Chocolate Abuelita, it’s a chocolate brand from Mexico. It can be found in the States if you live near the border or the local grocery store has a ‘Mexican/Latin’ food aisle. My uncles in Mexico ship it to us every once in a while. I only use it in very special occasions.” She sent him a soft sidelong glance as she drank again. “You should feel honored.”

Taewoon choked on the precious beverage. He held the mug away from his body as his body struggled to decide whether to laugh or choke first.

“Hey! I just told you that it’s made out of precious ingredients!” Eun Mi handed him a napkin, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“You can’t just order someone to feel honored,” Taewoon wiped his lips and chin.

“I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Hey, just what kind of person are you?”

Eun Mi tossed her hair over her shoulder, sitting straighter. “A wonderful one, can’t you tell?”

Taewoon gawked at her. “Wow. Just, wow.”

He had not expected her to be full of false bravado. He found it even cuter when she squirmed in embarrassment at her own actions. He raised his mug in her direction as if in cheers and drank.

“When do you leave for Hanoi?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?”

“I’m more nervous than excited.”

“You should enjoy it. Don’t go sneaking out of the hotel, though. I’m sure there will be fans waiting for you to try and escape. It isn’t as safe in a place you’re not familiar with.”

“I won’t. I’m more worried about L6 being stalked all the way over there.”

Taewoon paused, raising his eyebrows. “Stalked? They have stalker fans?”

Eun Mi nodded. “AMORES were really good at respecting their privacy. They’re one of the best fandoms, to be honest. But, suddenly, Ryouta found himself a group of stalkers.”

“Ryouta is the…”

“He’s the youngest. He’s still at that age where he’s more cute than handsome, so I can see how he would have noona fans but stalkers…”

“Damn. Stalker fans are always a pain to deal with.”

Eun Mi rubbed the rim of the mug with her thumb, holding it with both hands underneath her lips. Her eyes lost focus for a few seconds. Taewoon could see her turning her worry over and over in her head. He could practically hear the concerns making their rounds.

He dipped a strawberry in the yogurt, chewing it slowly as he allowed her time to think. After a couple of seconds, Eun Mi emerged from her preoccupied trance.

“Don’t eat all the strawberries! Leave some for me!”

Taewoon hugged the bowl of strawberries closer to him, shielding them with his arms. Eun Mi tried to find a breach in his defense. She gave up after a couple of attempts, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Do Gwiyomi Player and I’ll share.”

Where others would hesitate, Eun Mi didn’t. She jumped right into it, delivering a flawless performance.

Still, in the back of her mind she knew that she looked awkward. Her face was not made for cute expressions. Her eyes were a little too big, her face a little too round, her lips a little too full, her nose a little too small. Eun Mi always believed these kind of things suited her members best, especially ReNA and Ienna, the doll-like visuals. But she’d found that faking confidence often led to good results.

And so she faked it. She faked believing she was cute enough to go through with Gwiyomi Player. Eun Mi did not only fake Gwiyomi Player, she faked so many things in order to survive variety shows that she’d developed a false confidence thick enough to keep her from showing just how embarrassed she was over doing such foolish things.

As she kissed her soft fingertips, she looked at Taewoon from under her eyelashes, a trick she’d learned from a senior actress at B.Star ENT., and proceeded to press her thumb against his cheek.

“Gwiyomi,” she concluded.

Taewoon stared.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, easily relinquishing the bowl of strawberries when Eun Mi reached for them. She munched on them happily, bouncing in her seat as she kicked her feet.

“Wow…you’re shameless.”

To drive the point home even further, Eun Mi winked at him.

Taewoon just about died. He hid his face behind his hand, bowing his head as he tried to calm his pounding heart. He regretted many things in his life; he added having challenged Eun Mi into the list. Somehow, he felt he should’ve known better. Her Gwiyomi Player was bound to haunt him for months to come, unsettling him, making his breath catch and his cheeks hurt from smiling.

“So, erm,” he cleared his throat, pressing a fist against his lips. “This café belongs to Su Jong’s mother?”

“Yup! They used to live in the upper levels, but after Su Jong debuted, well, you know how it goes.”

“Is Su Jong your relative in any way? Maybe through a marriage?”

Eun Mi shook her head as she offered him a piece of sliced kiwi. “Su Jong is my best friend. We met the first full summer I lived here. That would be what? During my first year in Seoul? It sounds about right. Anyway, the company thought it’d improve my social and language skills if I worked part-time somewhere. I tried several jobs before finally settling here.”

“How long did you work here?”

“Just that summer. Su Jong and I come back to help sometimes. Once, L6 held a mini fan-meeting here. Another time CELESTIAL came to wait on the patrons. The earnings of that day went to charity. It was Ms. Kang’s idea.”

“So, you’re telling me that this café is known for having close ties with L6 and CELESTIAL and we still met here?”

Eun Mi grinned. “Scandalous, right?”

“Scandals is what we’re supposed to be avoiding,” he laughed.

“As long as we keep out of the front, we’ll be alright. We usually announce when we’re coming to visit through SNS.”

“Aren’t you guys too carefree?”

“We work hard in everything we do. This café is a safe haven for us. We’ve never had issues with fans respecting that.”

Taewoon finished the last of his hot chocolate. “You seem to trust your fans a lot.”

Eun Mi held her fingers in a “V” sign up against her eye. “You know it!”

Taewoon laughed, setting their empty mugs on the coffee table. He twisted his body to see her better and continued asking her questions.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I like a few. Pastels are my favorites, especially blue and yellow.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“No.”

He didn’t miss the faltering in her smile.

“What about your parents? Did they come with you to Seoul?”

“No. They’re back in the States.”

Again, he noticed how her smile seemed to lose its glow.

“Are you here on your own? Surely not!”

“Of course not. My aunt Minah came with me. She works as at the company every now and then.”

“Favorite food?”

“Chicken carbonara. It’s delicious!”

“Favorite animal?”

“Bear.”

Eun Mi avoided his eyes. Bears had not been her favorite animal before. Being with Taewoon made it difficult to like anything else, though.

“Favorite group?”

“That’s a secret!”

“Is it SPEED?”

“It’s a secret!” she pressed her finger against her lips. Her eyes shone.

“So, it’s SPEED.”

Eun Mi rubbed her hands together. “I’m sorry.”

Taewoon laughed. “Traitor!”

“Is CELESTIAL your favorite girl group, then?”

“AOA! It’s AOA!”

Eun Mi gasped, smacking his arm gently. “Fine! I’ll call Yuna and tell her to come meet you.”

“You know them personally?”

“Yuna and I are same-aged friends.”

“Great! Can you get her to autograph my copies of their albums?”

Eun Mi’s jaw dropped and she released an incredulous laugh. Taewoon grinned, nudging her playfully.

“Tell me your favorite group, maybe I can get them here.”

“It’s a secret.”

“What? Even after all of this you’re still keeping it a secret?”

“Yes.”

“C’mon, can’t you at least give me a hint?”

“They’re perfect.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Hey now, that wounds me. Stop smiling like that!”

“I can’t!” Eun Mi cupped her face. “They’re just so perfect! Together, they’d make the perfect man!”

Taewoon felt the stab. “Hey, call Yuna. I’m sure she’d be better company. Hurry up, call Yuna.”

Eun Mi’s sweet peal of laughter soothed his wounded ego. She apologized half-heartedly as she held onto him. The firmness in her grip reassured him.

Eun Mi did not want him to go anywhere and Taewoon would not move if she did not command it.

* * *

Kang Young Mi watched her surrogate daughter from afar, safely concealed behind the screen door. She heard her hiccupping laughter, noted the happiness in her voice. Eun Mi easily gave in to laughter, but this was certainly different.

There existed no trace of reserve. Her laughter did not ring out as if following a cue, it did not cut itself short when she realized it gone on for a little too long. It most definitely did not disappear to give way to the false, hallow sounds that she’d been known to produce.

She exchanged a meaningful look with her best friend Song Minah.

“It seems like you were right.”

“I told you.”

Young Mi laughed softly, closing the back door. “I should’ve believed you. How much do I owe you?”

“Fifty.”

“This is outrageous.”

“No,” said Minah. She gave Young Mi a smile that trembled between happiness and grief. “It’s about time.”  


	12. Between Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I don't think this is necessary, but just in case, I'll add this disclaimer:  
> I do not know the private lives of any of the idols present in this story. This is a work of fiction. All events depicted in BWB are fictional and any similarities with real life events is purely coincidental. Only the events taken from news outlets (i.e. Taewoon leaving SPEED, Zico stepping down as Show! Music Core MC, etc.) can be verified as "true."

Drawers opened and closed. Shirts, snapbacks, pants, underwear, and socks flew over his shoulders, landing messily within a hard suitcase. Zico was a packing tornado.

He had not time to organize everything individually. His strategy had always been to make a messy pile first, then fold it neatly. If he paused to do it right, he would forget the things he needed. He could not afford to forget anything.

The week had been so exhaustingly busy. He’d practiced with Block B, MCed for Show! Music Core, been at several other filmings, worked, and, most importantly, auditioned for a new reality show. Among all the work and hustle, he’d briefly glanced at the news.

On March 24th, news outlets had announced Taewoon’s departure from SPEED along with his future collaborative work with Block B’s Zico.

Zico could hear his older brother working in his room. He hadn’t seen or heard him come home; with their parents out, Taewoon had opted not to use his work headphones. Zico could hear the birth of his brother’s songs. Every now and then, Taewoon’s word selection would make Zico hesitate, but just when he felt he should intervene, Taewoon retracted his steps to deliver a much more powerful line that Zico himself had not thought of.

Taewoon, Zico knew, had a vast amount of unknown songs. Some were rough, others incomplete, abandoned after fighting him for too long, still others were raw, brilliant. Taewoon had never allowed Zico to take a look at his entire collection. Rare was the occasion in which Taewoon asked him for his opinion on more than a handful of his works.

The fact that they would be working together thrilled Zico. He knew Taewoon was proud of him, he’d said so himself many times, but he could not help wondering if that was entirely true.

Taewoon worked just as hard as Zico. Sometimes even harder. Fortuned had not favored the eldest Woo child as much as the youngest. Debuting under a seemingly incompetent company that could not handle scandals, struggling to gain a foothold in the industry, making his second debut with SPEED only to have his name be forgotten, replaced instead with “Zico’s hyung.”

Zico knew Taewoon loved him. Zico also knew that he should rid himself of the heavy, knife-like chill of dread that gnawed on his insides whenever he questioned Taewoon’s opinion of him. He couldn’t help it, wondering if his brother’s resentment of him was just as much or greater than his love for him.

He could not blame him if it was, neither could he excuse him.

Whenever Zico thought to bring up the subject, the words died on his lips as Taewoon threw a long arm around his shoulders, pinched his cheeks, or pulled a brotherly prank on him. His brother’s bear-like appearance and affection never failed to comfort him of his honesty. Zico tried to focus on the many smiles he’d received instead of the haunting shadows, the whispers of evil tongues that planted the seeds of doubt in his mind. Those thoughts never failed to make his heart fearful.

Though Zico’s steps were always sure, he felt himself faltering whenever he contemplated that there must be some ill between him and Taewoon.

“Jiho-yah, when did you get here? I didn’t hear you come in.”

Zico looked up from his suitcase. Taewoon leaned against the frame of his bedroom door, his arms crossed lazily.

“I just came in.”

Taewoon raised his eyebrows as he nodded in the direction of his suitcase. “It seems like you’ve been here for a while. Do you have everything you need? I heard it’s warm in Hanoi at this time. Make sure you take a jacket just in case. If you get sick you’ll have a hard time working.”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Did you have dinner already?”

“Not yet.”

Taewoon straightened up as his phone started ringing in his pocket. “Let’s have dinner before you head back to the dorms,” he told him as he took the call. He turned on his heels, headed back into his room, and shut the door.

With a silly, happy smile, Zico hurried to get his packing done. Time with is big brother was precious. He shouldn’t waste it.

* * *

“Hey, I didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight,” Taewoon whispered as he shut his bedroom’s door behind him.

“Did I interrupt you? You can call me back later when you have time.” Eun Mi matched his hushed tone.

“No, of course not. I’m taking a break. Are you all packed up for Hanoi?”

“Yes, I’m just waiting on the girls to finish their own packing. The PDs gave us this camera to film our packing process. Ienna is having too much fun with it.”

Taewoon grinned as he laid on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head. “Shouldn’t you be the one directing?”

“I am not going to come in between that camera and Ienna. That’d be suicide. I enjoy living, thank you very much.”

He laughed.

“Did you pack a jacket? What about your medication?”

“That’s all packed and ready. Oh wait! I forgot to pack socks.”

Taewoon could hear Eun Mi rummaging around her room, the thought of her diving into a drawer full of mixed-matched socks made him smile.

“How are you?” Eun Mi asked.

“I’m good. I’ve been working. Practicing. You know, same old, same old.”

“How’s SPEED?”

“They’re doing well. Did Taeha say something to you?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. He was being a jerk though.”

“What did he do?”

“He wouldn’t tell me when SPEED’s comeback would be.”

He could hear the disappointed fangirl pout in her voice. “Well that’s confidential information, Eun Mi-ah.”

“Do you know when they’ll have their comeback?”

“Of course I do.”

He knew her next question before she asked it.

“When? When? When?”

Taewoon grinned like an idiot. He covered his face with his hand, feeling a warmth spread through his being. Eun Mi was just too cute!

“That’s confidential information.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, but I really can’t tell you.”

“You’re just as mean as Taeha. Fine. I won’t tell you guys when CELESTIAL will have a comeback either!”

“That’s alright, I’m waiting for AOA anyway.”

“Ugh! You’re so mean!”

“And you’re too cute. I think we’re even.”

“That is such flawed logic!”

Taewoon laughed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

* * *

Zico stood outside Taewoon’s room, his ear carefully inclined towards the door. He could hear his brother laughing between words, teasing whomever he spoke to.

He had often heard him talk to his past girlfriends before, but it was nothing like this. Even in his indiscernible whispers, Zico could identify a tenderness that had been absent in previous relationships. Taewoon’s voice floated gently, carrying with it the feelings that Zico had never before witnessed in him.

He spoke almost as if he were afraid that that person would break. He laughed, charmed.

Zico blinked, puzzled, curious.

He felt he shouldn’t interrupt; he did so anyway. Knocking, he cut Taewoon off mid-sentence.

“Hyung?”

“Are you ready, Jiho-ah?”

“Yeah.”

“Give me a few seconds.”

Zico let Taewoon say goodbye to his girlfriend, waiting for him in the living room.

* * *

Taewoon slipped on his hoodie, the very same one Eun Mi had washed for him. The detergent she’d used smelled nicer than the one he’d used at the dorms and home; a gentle scent of rain drops, it seemed.

Zico waited for him patiently, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly.

“Jiho-ah, let’s go.”

They walked leisurely down their neighborhood to the closest grill. They’d frequented the place often when they were younger and not as busy. They talked about the weather, the plans for the summer, several songs they intended to work on as soon as Zico had a little more time.

“What about Block B? When will you guys make a comeback?”

Zico rubbed the back of his neck, rotating it gently. “I’m not sure. Right now, we’re focusing on our first sub-unit.”

“Did you guys draw lots to see who’d be in it?” Taewoon teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge. “I wouldn’t put it past you guys.”

“Neither would BBC,” Zico laughed.

“Did you include your name in that more than once?”

“Eey, what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Laughing, they rounded a corner, bumping into a group of school girls. They apologized, bowing. The girls did the same until one of them gasped as she recognized Zico.

“Oh my gosh! It’s Block B’s Zico!”

The rest glanced at Zico before squealing. They respectfully asked him for his autograph or a picture. Taewoon offered to take it for them.

Zico kept a close eye on Taewoon. He stood a ways off from the group as he focused the camera on them.

“Zico, smile. Wider, c’mon!”

The girls exchanged puzzled looks at the familiarity in which he addressed Zico. After the photo, only one of them focused enough to notice the family resemblance between them.

“Ah! Zico’s hyung!”

“That’s right!”

“Zico’s hyung! It’s Zico’s hyung!”

Taewoon’s smile tightened. Zico ushered them on their way hurriedly. They didn’t talk about it. The rest of the walk to the restaurant was made in silence.

Worrying, Zico sought any thread of conversation that would ease the sting off Taewoon’s feelings.

“What’s that smell?” he ventured, sniffing Taewoon’s jacket. “Mom changed detergents?”

Taewoon’s lips twitched. “No, mom’s still using the same.”

“Which one is it? I like it.”

“I don’t know,” Taewoon said with a smile. “But I can ask.”

He drew his cell phone, using whatever excuse he could find to talk to Eun Mi. Taewoon wasn’t quite ready to share her existence with Zico just yet. He took care to never say her name around him. Besides, he knew that something unpleasant had happened between them. Taeha had hinted as much a few nights ago.

“Hyung, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Then you’re talking to someone?”

“What makes you think that?”

“That stupid smile you have plastered on your face.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No shit.”

Taewoon laughed, saying nothing more. Zico glanced at him. Unable to resist the urge, he pressed him for information.

“How long have you known her?”

“Not long. We met a few weeks ago by chance. Although I’m starting to think it might’ve been through Divine Intervention.”

Zico whistled. “Hyung, you’ve only known her for a couple of weeks and you already sound so love-struck.”

“I think I might be.”

“Whoa! Slow down there Don Juan!”

This time, Taewoon didn’t laugh. He gave Zico a smile as he opened the door to the restaurant, allowing him to walk in first. They secured their favorite table, ordered the usual, and promised the owner that they would visit more in the future.

“So, who is she?”

“Just someone.”

“Do I know her?”

Taewoon gestured zipping his lips shut.

“Hyung, c’mon! Since when do we not tell each other these things?”

“Jiho-ah, this time, just give me some time. It isn’t anything against you. I just want to see where this goes before I share it with others.”

Zico realized that the girl in question was an idol. He could tell from the manner in which Taewoon protected her.

The Woo brothers had experience with women, of course, but they were usually so busy that they did not have much time to date. When they did, they spent it with friends or family or each other. Every now and then when they found themselves a girlfriend it never lasted more than a few months; their girlfriends always grew tired of coming in second to their careers. Zico in particular had received his fair share of slaps when he chose his work over them.

Taewoon kept a low profile whenever he dated. He’d never brought a girl home to meet their mother, never even mentioned them to her. Zico would let her know once in a while that there was someone he wanted to invest some time and attention in. Taewoon didn’t.

Of course, their mother knew that Taewoon must’ve been in a couple of relationships. She only ever found out after they’d broken up, however.

Between themselves, though, they knew more than anyone would ever know. They’d often shared several drinks over this heartbreak or that. When things got particularly difficult, they often confided in one another. It was not uncommon that they’d often dated simply to rid themselves of the spells of loneliness that assaulted them.

The fact that Taewoon refused to speak of this girl made her special. He’d never withheld information from Zico before, especially of this nature. Talking about their relationships was something uniquely theirs; something strictly between brothers.

“She’s that special, huh?” Zico said as he took a thoughtful drink of beer.

Taewoon turned the meat over in the grill, keeping his eyes on the sizzling flesh. His phone chimed on the table; he spared it a glance before looking at Zico.

“Spring rain,” he said.

“What?”

“That’s the scent of the detergent she uses.”

Zico blinked, letting the issue go. Taewoon would tell him when he was ready. After all, he knew that things like that stayed strictly between brothers.

“Don’t eat everything this time.”

“When do I ever?”

“Always.”

“You’re the one that ate my chicken last time.”

“Dammit, just let it go already!”

“Nope, don’t think I will.”


	13. You.

The soft sound of her alarm pull Eun Mi out of heavy sleep. She could feel slumber upon her like a heavy rock. Her mind swirled in and out of awareness, the song she’d chosen as her alarm the only anchor to reality.

For a moment, she feared she’d miscalculated time. Her doctor had instructed her to take her sleeping pills only if she knew she had enough time. At first, she’d been unable to find time to sleep the eight hours her dosage required. It was only until after they’d lowered the dosage that she managed to follow the doctor’s orders well.

As the song approached its end, Eun Mi tried to open her eyes. Sleep held her down, luring her back. She struggled, fighting against it.

She had to get up. She had to shower, wake up the girls, get ready for the airport—the airport!

The thought shattered sleep. Eun Mi’s eyes shot open, the darkness in her room and the soft melody of her alarm assured her that she’d be in time if she got up now. Giving her pillow one last hug, she headed for the shower as she tied her hair up in a bun; they would wash it at the salon.

Eun Mi had the bad habit of taking long showers. She’d never been able to break it, so she’d solved the problem by waking up an hour and thirty minutes before she had to wake up the girls. She couldn’t shower in lukewarm water, which also meant that she also ended up using most of the hot water. Waking up before the rest solved the problem well enough.

She didn’t want to start her day. She wanted to go back to bed, wanted to go back to those dreamless hours. She didn’t get many nights like those.

Shuffling about the dorm, she reached the kitchen and turned on the dim lights. Their managers still weren’t up, so she figured she’d make breakfast for everyone.

The front door’s lock chimed as it unlocked. The manager team leader stared at her as she opened and closed cabinets, using her entire body to maneuver around the kitchen.

“If one were to see you, they’d think you were a housewife,” he said good-naturedly.

“Good morning Manager Jo,” Eun Mi smiled, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. “You’re late.”

“I’m not late. You’re up too early.” He took the creamer she offered with an appreciative nod. “Where are the other managers?”

“I let them sleep. We have busy days ahead, so I figured I would take care of breakfast today.”

Manager Jo raised his eyebrows. “Eun Mi, you’re going to be busier than us. You’re the one that has to be up on stage.”

“Those working behind the scenes work just as hard,” she gave him a meaningful look. “You’re up just as early as I am, aren’t you?”

“Touché.”

Eun Mi wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m going to wake up the girls. I told them to finish packing last night, but I’m sure they forgot several things.”

Manager Jo checked his watch. If allowed to do so, Eun Mi would run them all an hour ahead of schedule.

“Chae Young-ah, Chae,” Eun Mi shook the sleeping girl. “It’s time to wake up.”

Chae groaned, turning her back on her leader. Eun Mi gave her one final, gentle wake up call. Again, Chae ignored her. Sighing, Eun Mi went back to her room, grabbed her iPod and connected it via Bluetooth to their surround sound system.

“Oh no,” Manager Jo laughed.

“Oh, yes.” Eun Mi grinned as she pressed play.

The sound of trumpets accompanied by the trademark Mexican shout erupted through the speakers. Eun Mi broke into a large smile as she sang along to the mix of Mexico’s favorite traditional songs. She went around opening doors, pulling blankets off warm bodies, and hitting ridiculously high notes, carrying them through for a handful of seconds before moving on to the next. Her vocal range never failed to astound anyone that heard it.

Manager Jo watched and heard her go from room to room. He thanked the heavens for the soundproof nature of the dorm, although he knew Eun Mi would’ve chosen a different method of waking the girls up if she couldn’t blast her country’s traditional songs.

“Hey! Who ignored our leader this morning?” Ienna, the crankiest member in the mornings, forgot her manners and shouted informally.

“Chae Young!” ReNA tackled the culprit. “You need to wake up! Look what you did!”

Soon enough the dorm bustled with activity. As punishment for being the cause of their Mexican awakening, Chae was the last to take a shower. If the Mexican music didn’t wake her up, the cold water did.  

Eun Mi checked that the girls had their possessions ready to go after she finished making breakfast.

“You have your knee-brace?” She handed ReNA a bottle of banana milk.

“Ienna, did you pack your glasses? We can’t have your eyes turning red like last time.”

“Underwear, DAEE, underwear.”

“Chae! You packed too much again!”

Manager Jo checked his watch, amazed at how Eun Mi managed to get the girls ready so quickly. They ended up waiting on the managers while eating breakfast.

“Unnie,” Ienna said in a tone much gentler than the one she’d used half an hour before. “Why don’t you wake us up with gentler songs? I feel like Pancho Villa is raiding our dorm whenever you wake us up like that.”

“Good, then you’ll be ready when it actually happens.”

“Can every Mexican sing like that?” DAEE asked for the millionth time.

“We’re born singing _Viva México_ while the mariachi play outside the delivery room.”

“Are you serious?!”

Manager Jo choked on his coffee as he laughed. CELESTIAL laughed at him and at DAEE’s naiveté. Exchanges like these were never scarce in CELESTIAL’s dorm.

* * *

Going to the airport was the worst. CELESTIAL hated the busy gate areas, the cramped space of the airplanes. When Eun Mi’s anxiety was particularly bad, Manager Jo walked closest to her, slowing her steps to keep the girls from noticing.

As he pulled up to the front entrance, he feared Eun Mi would shatter. He stole a glance in her direction, watching her send a text message with a small smile on her lips.

“Is that Su Jong oppa?” DAEE asked. “Will L6 be flying with us?”

“They’re scheduled for the same flight. They should already be by the gate.” Manager Jo explained.

To avoid serious crowding in the airport, the companies had all agreed to a schedule of arrival. This would clear out the drop-off areas and allow one group’s fansites and fans to clear out the area for the next group. Groups were to be flown in separate planes, of course, with label mates in the same flight if possible.

“We see them every day,” Eun Mi said, a slight frown on her lips.

“Did you get in an argument with Tae Jun oppa again?” ReNA said with a laugh. “You two are the eldest, you should get along.”

Thus, a discussion of Tae Jun ensued. Eun Mi argued that he was the most annoying man she’d ever met while the rest of CELESTIAL countered that they knew worse. Manager Jo tuned out their senseless argument as he maneuvered the van into an available slot.

Male and female fans awoke from their slumber. Expensive cameras were raised, cheers carried over, penetrating the van. Eun Mi turned around, checking on the members.

DAEE’s bare legs worried her; the wind still felt cold. She couldn’t do anything about it except hand her some vitamins. DAEE took them wordlessly, used to her leader’s worrying. The girls looked ready, eager; it would be their second time out of the country since KCON 2014, they were ready to go.

“Eun Mi-ah, it’s time.” Manager Jo said.

Nodding, Eun Mi pushed the door open, stepping out first. She gripped her passport and plane ticket in one hand, drawing her braid over her shoulder with the other. Ienna followed, smoothing out her blouse as best she could before looking to Eun Mi for help. As the maknae and leader engaged themselves in the sudden wardrobe malfunction, DAEE jumped out of the van, her bangled wrists jiggling.

“DAEE, please,” said Eun Mi. DAEE grinned, giving her head a shake that ruffled her short hair.

ReNA followed Chae, both sticking close together as they showcased their matching best friend bags.

CELESTIAL made their way alongside their assigned managers, expertly ignoring the cameras while acknowledging their fans. A.Borealis had learned early on that CELESTIAL would not take any gifts or fan letters while at the airport. Eun Mi had personally addressed the safety hazard this posed, apologizing as she instructed them in the proper methods of delivering fan letters.

Manager Jo kept a close eye on the girls, never failing to be pleasantly amazed at how well behaved and respectful A.Borealis were. They kept a respectful distance, called to CELESTIAL affectionately. The men praised them. This time, Ienna’s uncle fans were the majority.

Security watched with approval. As CELESTIAL moved, so did A.Borealis. The organized synchronization present between the idols and their fans received nods of approval from bystanders.

Checking in proved to be just as swift as their arrival. As CELESTIAL headed towards the security checkpoint, they stopped, turned, and bowed to A.Borealis, sending waves. Only Eun Mi blew kisses, her trademark fan service that never failed to render A.Borealis speechless.

* * *

“You guys are here early.” Su Jong met up with CELESTIAL just outside the security checkpoint. He held their passports as they put on their shoes.

“At what time is the plane leaving?” asked ReNA, already eyeing the nearest store.

“In about two hours or so,” said Su Jong.

Manager Jo checked his ticket then asked Eun Mi for hers. She handed it to him, tapping the tip of her shoe to the floor. Something in Manager Jo’s expression made her stomach clench.

“Is there a problem?”

Manager Jo gave her a brief glance before gathering up the rest of their boarding passes. “Go wait with L6. I’ll find you girls there.”

“My bet,” said Su Jong, “is that they booked us for different flights.”

“As long as they didn’t book us for a different country, it should be okay.”

Su Jong bit his lip, throwing his arm over her shoulders. “True, but, it could prove troublesome.”

Eun Mi laughed. “I see no real issue as long as we all get to Hanoi in time.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to explain your worries away.”

Eun Mi made to answer, but before she did, Manager Jo came rushing towards them.

“Girls, hurry, we have to go!”

“Where?” asked Ienna.

“In the opposite direction! They booked us for the wrong flight. It leaves in twenty minutes! They promised to wait for us, but let’s not take any chances. Hurry!”

Su Jong and Eun Mi exchanged looks. He gave her braid a tug, smiling encouragingly. His eyes overcast by a sudden shadow.

Eun Mi paused, trepidation giving her pause. “What is it? What are you not telling me?”

“Eun Mi, just,” he gave her hand a squeeze, “take deep breaths.”

Manager Jo urged Eun Mi, waiting for her as the rest of the managing team hurried CELESTIAL along.

“S-Su Jong, who is it? What group?”

He gave her forehead a quick kiss, releasing her hand. “Go, Eun Mi. You’ll miss the flight.”

Manager Jo took her hand and dragged her along. She twisted round, her eyes wide, somewhat frightened. Su Jong took a step towards her, wanting to follow. A strong hand clasped his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Tae Jun whispered. “She needs to face this.”

“Face this?” Su Jong snatched his shoulder free. “That guy is an absolute asshole. If I hear that he said or did one more thing to her, I will break his nose.”

Tae Jun’s leveled gaze subdued Su Jong’s. He looked away in angry silence.

Eun Mi was no longer distinguishable in the crowd. She was so tiny, she’d always been. Su Jong knew she could take care of herself; what he hated was the fact that she shouldn’t need to be strong all the time. Often times, he wondered if she would rely more on him if only they were actually related.

If he were her older brother, would she confide in him when she felt weak?

Tae Jun also felt this way. Eun Mi was precious to him. He hadn’t understood why she’d been casted for the longest time. After he left for the military, though, Eun Mi had constantly written to him, cheering him on and telling him that she missed having him around.

“You’re like a cousin to me,” she’d written to him, “the kind that is brotherly and annoying at the same time. I miss you most during lunch time. It isn’t that we’re too quiet, it’s the fact that your absence is felt. Please take care of your health and mind while you’re gone. You must come back safely.”

Seeing the fear in her eyes had caused his insides to burn. Still, Tae Jun knew that she could not avoid it forever. Taking the same plane to Hanoi was only the beginning. She would have trying days ahead; he might as well prepare her for them as much as he could. Right now, keeping Su Jong from walking her to her gate meant just that.

* * *

Kyung nearly spat out his water when he saw the members of CELESTIAL boarding their plane. Zico, too engaged in a silly game with P.O., failed to notice the moment Eun Mi followed after her members.

She did not look like the girl he’d met a week ago. The flush had drained from her face, her steady hands seemed to tremble; her steps were hesitant. She looked at the floor, wringing her hands nervously.

“E-Eun Mi-ah,” Kyung said in a near whisper, her name being nothing more than an exhaled breath.

The moment she heard her name, the Eun Mi he’d met appeared. She looked up, met his eyes, and gave him her trademark smile, the one with her tongue between her teeth. She waved, stopping briefly when the stewardess indicated that her seat was the empty one next to Kyung.

Kyung stepped out into the aisle, allowing her to take the seat he’d previously had. It would place greater distance between her and Zico.

“What’s going on? I thought we were the only ones in this flight.”

Eun Mi took her seat, fastening her seatbelt even though they wouldn’t take off for a few more minutes. “I don’t know. I think there was a mistake somewhere. We were supposed to fly with L6.”

Kyung angled his body to shield her from Zico’s view. Over the course of the past week, he’d failed to know the reason behind Zico’s vicious dislike of Eun Mi. He’d also managed to like her even more with each conversation they had over KaTalk.

“Will you be okay? Maybe we could ask someone to trade seats with you. You’re pretty far from CELESTIAL.”

“The stewardess said—”

“Hey, Kyung!” Zico reached over and smacked Kyung on the arm. He tried to tell him something through fits of laughter. He grabbed his jacket as he laughed, pulling it. Kyung’s shoulder gave way to the sudden force. Eun Mi’s round face paled as Zico’s eyes zeroed in on her.

“ _You_.”

Eun Mi bowed to him, keeping her shoulders back. She gave him a pleasant, formal greeting before turning her attention elsewhere.

“Zico,” Kyung lean towards him, his body leaning out into the aisle. “Hey, Zico!”

Zico tore his glaring eyes away from Eun Mi to stare are his lifelong friend. “Stay away from her, Kyung.”

It was Kyung’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Eun Mi is my friend.”

“Friend? Don’t be stupid, you don’t know the kind of person she is.”

“Neither do you.”

“You have no idea.”

“Don’t I?” Kyung lowered his voice even further. “I have a feeling you misjudge her, Jiho.”

“I don’t!”

“Oh? Then tell me what makes her so damn awful.”

Zico pursed his lips. Glaring at Kyung, yet unable to be fully angry at him. He could never forsake his friend over something as foolish as the people he chose to acquaint himself with. Although he didn’t like Eun Mi, he didn’t think she was worth a nasty fight with Kyung who seemed so willing to defend her.

Shaking his head, Zico drew back into his seat. “Don’t let your guard down.”

“Maybe you should lower yours.”

Kyung’s tone stung him. When he looked in his direction, he found he’d already turned his head away, focused entirely on the girl that held a rosary between her hands.

The sight of Mary’s blessed rosary in her hands felt like someone dumped a bucket of iced water on him. Her fingers caressed the beads tenderly while her eyes focused on Kyung. Zico could’ve sworn her hands trembled.

Upset, conflicted, he turned away from them.

He thought back on the day that he’d first seen Eun Mi. She hadn’t debuted then, hell, she hadn’t even had clear skin.

A pimply, plump girl, that’s how he remembered her. A pimply, plump stalker leaving notes on their front door. A pimply, plump girl that had shamelessly offered him the packet of letters she’d been about to leave on their welcome mat. A pimply, plump girl that had left her number scrawled on a piece of paper stuck to their dorm door. She’d been shameless enough to bow to him and wish him a good day.

Eun Mi had been nothing but a stalker.

Zico hated stalkers. No matter how many Hail Mary’s Eun Mi prayed, no matter how many times she crossed herself or appealed to Our Lady, he would never have anything to do with her. Ever.

Zico hated Eun Mi.  


	14. Hanoi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Disclaimer: This is all a work of pure fiction. Any similarities to real live events is a mere coincidence.]

The piercing screams of Vietnamese BBC made everyone’s ears ring. CELESTIAL looked at Eun Mi nervously, unsure if they would be as welcomed.

“Keep your heads up, shoulders back. Don’t be intimidated by anything or anyone,” Eun Mi told them. “We’re CELESTIAL. We don’t walk the earth.”

“We soar the heavens,” they replied.

Leader Eun Mi nodded, smiling. She folded her sweater and placed it inside her bag, double checking that her passport was inside. She rolled up her sleeves, checked her shoelaces.

“Eun Mi-ah.” Manager Jo waved her over.

He pulled her aside, drawing her out of the circle of busy managers, stylists, and coordinators. The worried glance he shot her every now and then readied her for the inevitable. Eun Mi sent a quick prayer for strength as she saw one of Block B’s managers looming ahead.

“Hello, Ms. Eun Mi,” he said.

“Hello,” she replied with a bow.

The managers looked at Zico, standing with his hands in his pockets, waiting for him to return the greeting. His manager nudged him; Zico did not move an inch.

“Might as well get along with it,” Manager Jo said. Eun Mi placed a hand on his arm to reassure him. She’d expected just as much from Block B’s Zico.

“Yes, well,” started Block B’s team manager. “As you all know, there have been rumors going around. We don’t need to talk about what caused such rumors, of course, but we do need to make sure they’re not given anything that could validate them.”

“Hyung, you’re asking me not to validate the truth?” Zico said.

Eun Mi turned to him with steady eyes. “The truth should remain between us, Mr. Zico. If news outlets were to find anything that could validate the ‘rumors’ it would create an unnecessary problem for both companies.”

Zico scoffed. “Are you afraid of a little scandal, Ms. Song Eun Mi?”

“If I was a solo artist, I would have no issue acting on my own accord. But I am CELESTIAL’s leader, and as their leader I will act accordingly. You might consider doing the same for Block B.”

Zico glared at her. He hated the way she carried herself, so self-assured, as if she had anything to be proud of. His jaw clenched. “Just worry about yourself.”

“I most certainly will.”

Eun Mi took her leave. She could feel Zico’s daggers on her back, could feel her heart hammering within her chest. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes.

He sounded so much like Taewoon.

* * *

Zico smiled at BBC as he made his way through the airport. CELESTIAL walked ahead of Block B with a confidence he never imagined they’d possess. They were a lost ship in foreign waters. Due to the airline’s mistake, their fans waited at the wrong gate. He knew it wouldn’t take long for fansites to realize this, but while they rushed from one gate to another, CELESTIAL walked in a sea of BBC.

Hardly did any one acknowledge the girls, but they continued to walk with pride. Fans shouted some phrases in Korean, but mainly in English.

Zico walked ahead of Block B, leading his members through the narrow walkway. Eun Mi walked a few steps ahead of him with CELESTIAL ahead of her. Security lined the path, keeping the masses from getting too close.

“There’s so much people,” P.O. said through his smile as he waved. “Can you understand what they’re saying?”

Zico focused on the voices. He could hear their fans calling out to them, some using their stage names, others their real ones. Cheers drowned out anything else that might’ve been said. Everything except one piercing shout.

Because of the noise, because of the security so carefully lined up, because of how neatly CELESTIAL and Block B walked in their provided space, because of these and so many other distracting factors they did not see the raging fan until it was too late.

“You  _bitch!_ ”

Zico heard the shout because he’d been focused on the sounds. He turned his head just as a girl broke through the barricade. She grabbed Eun Mi by the braid—her long braid with a ribbon weaved in between the plaits—and pulled her to the ground.

Eun Mi, taken by surprise, lost her balance briefly before regaining some of her footing. Her attacker took the chance to tackle her, hitting her square on the chest with her shoulders.

“Eun Mi!” Zico rushed to break her fall. He had to dive on his knees, catching her with difficulty.

Security jumped into action a little too late. They hurriedly ushered CELESTIAL out of the building. Kyung appeared out of nowhere, helping Zico pull Eun Mi to her feet.

“Hurry, Eun Mi!” he said as he pulled her along. They walked with their arms around her, shielding her with their bodies.

The screams of the crowd intensified as security rushed them out of the building. Kyung and Zico guided Eun Mi into their van, shutting the door after Jaehyo rushed in. The driver speeding away with urgency.

“Eun Mi,” Kyung cupped her face in his hands, trying to get her to look at him. “Eun Mi-ah, look at me. Are you alright? Did you hit your head anywhere? Eun Mi-ah? Eun Mi-ah!”

Zico touched her head, checking for any signs of blood. “She’s in shock. We need to get her somewhere safe.”

“CELESTIAL,” Eun Mi said suddenly.

“What?”

“CELESTIAL,” she said again, looking straight at Zico, grabbing his arm. Her eyes burned with something unknown. “Where are my girls? Where’s CELESTIAL?”

“They’re fine,” Zico said, taking her trembling hand in his. “Eun Mi, they’re fine. Safe.”

He could see her consciousness fading. He settled her gently against the seat, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said. And if Zico didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn she called him Taewoon.

* * *

Eun Mi shivered. She reached for the blankets, drawing them tight around herself. The pillow under her smelled weird, not at all like the detergent she used to wash the dorm’s pillow cases.

“Hey, are you awake?”

She groaned, wishing her manager would just go away and let her sleep. She’d gotten up way too early.

“Don’t bullshit me, I know you’re awake.”

The covers were pulled away from her almost violently. Eun Mi sat up, alarmed. She couldn’t see very well; she’d slept with her contacts on again. Her eyes were red, the world blurry, her mind fuzzy. Something on the back of her hand itched.

A strong hand gripped hers as she reached for the itch. “Don’t scratch that, you idiot.”

“Don’t talk to her like that. She’s still under the influence of the sedative.”

“She needs to wake up. If she doesn’t things could get ugly.”

Something about the man’s tone made Eun Mi want to focus. Her head hurt terribly. When she touched it, she winced.

“Hey, hey, hey,” the man said again. His voice was familiar, but something about it was off. “Don’t touch that. You were nearly scalped back there.”

Back where?

Eun Mi tried to focus. The other voice, the one that belonged to someone she didn’t know, had said something about a sedative. Her consciousness tingled with the memory of medication.

Something had happened. Something very important, dangerous even. The lack of fear in her, the absence of her anxiety, slashed through the dense fog in her mind. Eun Mi knew she should be afraid, should be alarmed. She had to focus.

“Hey, Song Eun Mi!”

Eun Mi had to focus. But the sedative they’d given her was too strong. She felt her body grow heavy, her eyesight dim, before the world disappeared.

* * *

“Dammit.” Zico caught Eun Mi as she passed out. Her dead weight annoyed him because it worried him. He laid her down carefully.

“Zico,” his manager said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “How much longer are you planning to stay here?”

“Her manager hasn’t come back. No one else is here for her. Don’t they care about her?”

“They’re answering questions from the local police, you know that. Once her manager is here, can we go?”

The thought of leaving her unconscious, without even asking her personally if she was alright, troubled Zico. He still didn’t like her, but he wasn’t the kind of man that would relish in another’s misfortunes. Especially of this kind.

He poured himself a glass of water, sipping it as he stared at her.

Zico couldn’t deny that she was pretty. Even with a pile of messy hair, an undone braid with torn ribbons, Eun Mi looked very pretty. Her features were foreign, of course, simultaneously round and angular, gentle and sharp; a contradiction, the offspring of two very distinct races.

Mexican-American, Latina, that’s what Taeil had once said. Zico couldn’t remember ever having come across a Latina before. Were they all so strong and fragile, like Eun Mi?

* * *

Bypassing all the useless security, ditching their managers, Tae Jun and Su Jong barreled through Eun Mi’s door.

“Eun Mi-ah!”

They found themselves being shushed by Woo Zico.

“ _You_.”

The glare Su Jong sent his way nearly paralyzed him. He set his glass down on the windowsill. Gathering his things, he took his leave.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he walked by them.

“You should be apologizing instead,” Su Jong hissed.

“Why would I do that?”

Su Jong looked at him evenly. His eyes held no hatred, rather, they gleamed with ice cold fury. “One of your fans did this.”

It took a long while for Zico to react. “That…That is not possible.”

“Isn’t it? Check the news.”

With that Su Jong joined Tae Jun at Eun Mi’s side.

* * *

Zico threw his phone across the hotel room. It hit a wall, cracking the wallpaper and the phone’s screen. It shattered, landing in useless pieces on the ground.

“Hyung.” P.O. shrank away from his wrath.

“DAMMIT!”

The attack on CELESTIAL’s leader trended as number one in the largest search engines.  _Show! Music Core_  in Hanoi trended at number three. BBC trended at number two, with the related search terms—among many—being “attacked,” “violent,” and “crazy.”

A specific video clip kept being seen. From the angle of the fancam, one could see a figure clad in black break through to attack Eun Mi. The attacker’s face remained obscured from view, but there was no mistaking the large, sparkling silver Block B logo on the back of her hoodie.

That rainbow haired idiot had been right. One of his bees had done this.

* * *

Tae Jun unbraided Eun Mi’s hair, running his fingers through it as he turned the day’s events over and over in his mind.

Rumors spread faster than wildfire that much he knew. The fact that speculation that a BBC had assaulted the leader of CELESTIAL burned the Interweb. Show! Music Core’s world tour had been crated with the intention of promoting friendly cultural exchanges through K-Pop; having this occur to one of the representatives of this campaign hurt the image of the country they were visiting.

It seemed too outrageous. Tae Jun could not begin to understand why a BBC would jump on Eun Mi like that. There’d been no leaks of that failed program Eun Mi and Zico had been in together. Before then, the two hadn’t even met once.

The footage of the attack implicated that a BBC had been the one to assault Eun Mi. Still, it could be very possible that they’d simply worn a Block B hoodie to stir up trouble. Anyone against Block B, CELESTIAL, or K-Pop in general could’ve done it.

Sighing, Tae Jun checked the time. Eun Mi should be waking up soon. The authorities would want to speak with her.

In a crowd that bore every logo and Block B merchandise that they could get their hands on, the assailant had escaped. No one had seen their face; only Eun Mi had been close enough. They would probably ask her if she had any enemies or knew of anybody that could wish her harm.

Tae Jun mocked the thought.

Of course Eun Mi had enemies. Although, they were more commonly known as anti-fans in their line of work. 

Eun Mi didn’t have many of those. The ones she did have, however, were ruthless, as Tae Jun had so clearly seen—and could see—them be.

 


	15. D-1: My Dinh National Stadium

The commotion from outside the waiting room drew Chae Young out of her thoughts. She could hear Manager Jo begging loudly with someone. When the door swung open, Eun Mi strolled in with loose hair and vivid eyes.

“Eun Mi-ah, please, you need more rest.”

“More rest? I slept the entire morning and part of the afternoon away! When I wasn’t sleeping, I was trying to make sense of a blurred face so the police may try and apprehend them. Manager Jo,” she held her hand up in a manner Chae Young always thought of as very regal, “I am tired of being treated like a wounded animal.”

“You were attacked, Eun Mi. You need treatment.”

“And I will get treatment, Manager Jo, like I always do.”

Chae Young exchanged a worried glance with ReNA. If Eun Mi received any kind of treatment, the girls did not know anything about it.

“Eun Mi, please—”

Again, Eun Mi raised her hand. “Please, I can’t leave my girls alone. I’ll feel much better if I perform alongside them.”

Gnawing on her lip, Chae failed to blink back the tears that had been prickling her eyes. She heard the exchange between Manager Jo and Eun Mi for a while longer until he finally agreed to let her do as she pleased.

“Taking me out of the performance,” Eun Mi argued, “would only show the anti-fans that they’ve achieved what they wanted. They wanted me hurt. They wanted me to fear for my safety and hide away. I’m not going to do that. I won’t live my life based on how other people expect me to, especially anti-fans.”

Manager Jo opened his mouth then closed it slowly when he noticed Eun Mi’s pursed lips. He sighed heavily. “You have rehearsal in a couple of hours. Make sure you don’t wander off too far.”

Chae Young knew the smile that Eun Mi gave Manager Jo didn’t promise him anything. He knew it too, so he left while shaking his head. As long as she remained within the stadium, nothing could happen to her.

“Chae Young-ah.”

Chae Young gazed wide eyed at her leader. Tears poured down her face, her lips taking a purplish hue. “Unnie.”

She ran to Eun Mi, tackling her with a hug. The rest of CELESTIAL followed suit, clinging to their leader and unnie as tightly as they could. Eun Mi felt the combination of their weight squeezing her too hard.

“Girls! Girls!” Eun Mi laughed.

They bombarded her with thousands of questions, brushing her hair out of her face, hugging her, kissing her cheeks. Eun Mi waved them all away, laughing merrily.

“I’m fine,” she assured. “Now, let’s go find some food. I’m starving!”

“Kain oppa said that they had some sort of catering for all of us.”

“And he didn’t tell me? Well how rude!” Pulling out her cellphone and dialing Su Jong’s number, Eun Mi led CELESTIAL out of their waiting room in search of food.

* * *

The staff members in the stadium’s temporary cafeteria all stared awestruck when CELESTIAL and L6 came in. They watched as they good naturedly pulled tables together and helped each other out with their heavy trays.

Kain, with his astounding height, appeared nearly intimidating in his black attire. The twins made them feel cross-eyed with their identical faces and striking opposite styles. Ryouta’s softness drew a few smiles. Tae Jun walked with ease, his movements gentle as he communicated with those around them.

It was impossible for CELESTIAL not to appear shaken. Though Eun Mi assured the girls she felt fine, her eyes shifted around the room nervously. To the untrained eye, it appeared that the label mates were having a regular meal. However, L6 acted more like bodyguards than friends throughout the course of their meal.

“Did you guys rehearse already?” Eun Mi asked as she sniffed the bowl of pho before her. “Does this have ginger?”

“Yes,” Tae Jun handed her a pair of chopsticks. “To both.”

Eun Mi stunned the staff members by expertly handling the chopsticks as well as diving straight into the bowl of pho. She slurped the noodles and picked out the thin, long pieces of meat while she added bean sprouts by the fistful. Su Jong took the discarded ingredients while Tae Jun scolded her for being so picky.

“Slow down or you’ll choke.”

Eun Mi rolled her eyes. She felt her phone vibrate inside her pocket. The name on the screen made her choke.

“See? What did I tell you?”

She coughed into her napkin, sliding out of her chair. Kain rose to follow her.

“Stay.” Eun Mi held up a single finger up, stopping him. “I’m fine, guys.”

Kain looked at Tae Jun. When Tae Jun didn’t look up from his bowl, Kain returned to his seat. Eun Mi did not wait to find out if Kain had followed her or not; she was already out of the room and hiding in a small, almost forgotten hallway.

* * *

“Hello?”

“Oh, thank God and Virgin Mary!”

Taewoon ceased his nervous pacing, running his hand over his hair as he collapsed into the sofa. He let out a shaky breath, rubbing his forehead.

“Taewoon?”

“Eun Mi-ah,” he said shakily. “Eun Mi.”

Eun Mi’s heart ached hearing him call her name with such relief. She felt guilty for making him worry. She yearned to be beside him and soothe him, to reassure him that she was alright. If Eun Mi wasn’t alright before, now she would make sure that she was for his sake.

“How did—?”

“It’s all over the news.”

“Oh, no.”

“Eun Mi, where are you now? Are you safe?”

“I—I’m at the stadium.”

“Are you safe?”

“Yes, Taewoon, I—I’m safe.”

“Are you sure? Do I need to fly out there?” He glanced at his watch. “I can catch the next flight.”

Eun Mi released a pain-filled, breathy laugh. She felt the fear she had so carefully locked away rise up in her. Before CELESTIAL, Eun Mi had no issue bottling up just how awfully the event had affected her. Listening to Taewoon, drowning in his voice, Eun Mi wanted nothing more than to break down crying.

Who needed to be strong when there was a big bear ready to protect you?

Still, Eun Mi couldn’t let herself break down just yet. There would be time for that later.

“No, don’t be silly. I’m fine! Everyone is worrying too much. Besides, you have a lot of work to do. Don’t you have to practice for  _Show Me the Money_?”

“What about  _Show Me the Money_?”

Eun Mi screamed and dropped her phone at the sound of Zico’s voice. She looked at him with wide, startled eyes for a couple of seconds before she reached for her phone. The call had been cut off, of course, but Taewoon was not foolish enough to call back with Zico at such close proximity. That is, if he had even heard him speak.

Zico watched Eun Mi assess the damage on her phone. She wiped the screen on her jeans then with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Someone you know is auditioning for  _Show Me the Money_?”

“Yes,” she replied.

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “If they’re not talented, tell them not to bother. It’s a competition, not a Mother’s Day program.”

Eun Mi’s demeanor changed so quickly, Zico had not time to react. She narrowed her eyes, pushing past him angrily. Her tiny body hardly moved his lumbering frame, so she stepped on his foot to get him to move out of her way.

“Ow! Hey! What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” she whirled around; if she had been taller, her hair would’ve slapped him. “ _My_  problem? What’s  _yours_?”

“You seem to be mistaken here. You’re the one that did the wrong, Song Eun Mi.”

“Me? For goodness’ sake! I’d heard of celebrities whose fame went to their heads but you are on a league of your own, Mr. Zico.”

“Watch how you speak to me.”

“You should watch how you speak to me. We are not friends, yet you dare address me so casually?”

“Is there any reason why I should respect you? Maybe that anti-fan pulled your hair too hard and you forgot—”

The words were out of Zico’s mouth before he could stop them. The accusing look that Eun Mi gave him would haunt him for a long time. He wasn’t usually this way, not to anyone, especially a fellow artist. Eun Mi just happened to be someone he very much disliked and caused him to lose his cool, which only made him dislike her even more.

“Eun—Ms. Eun Mi, I didn’t—”

“Save it.”

She turned away, fighting the urge to cry before the man that shared a voice so similar to the one she so yearned to see. She took a deep breath before looking at him straight in the eye.

“I said it at the airport, but it appears to be that I must say it again. Worry about yourself, Mr. Zico.”

It looked to him as if she was ready to walk away, to make a very well-timed, dramatic exit, when she turned to look at him again.

“And by the way, that man that will audition for Show Me the Money, is very talented. The moment in which he decides to reveal his true potential, your career will be in grave danger. So you see, you really should just worry about yourself. You have no time to be worrying about others.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. Zico was left there with a foul taste in his mouth and a cloud of guilt dampening his mood.

“I didn’t even ask her if she was okay. Shit.”

* * *

It wasn’t until CELESTIAL was safely in the hotel that Eun Mi dared call Taewoon. She and Zico had had a very unpleasant encounter in public. No one had seen or heard them, thankfully, but she wasn’t willing to risk being eavesdropped.

Taewoon answered on the second ring.

“Hey.” His voice sounded hoarse; it cracked, he cleared it.

“I’m sorry, I—” What could Eun Mi say? That his brother had snuck up on her and that they’d had a fight?

“Was that Zico?”

“E-eh?”

“The one that snuck up on you, was it Zico?”

“Y-yes.”

“Where are you? The hotel?”

“Yes.”

Taewoon breathed a sigh of relief. He’d thrown himself into his work to keep his mind from Eun Mi. What hobbies couldn’t put off, work usually could; except that every thought of Eun Mi bypassed the barricades of work. He hadn’t made much progress. What little work he’d gotten done he was sure was mediocre.

“Eun Mi—”

“When I get back…”

Taewoon listened attentively. Eun Mi never interrupted him; what she wanted to say must be important to her.

“When I get back, may I see you?”

The brokenness in her voice made his heart scream in pain. If he could, Taewoon would’ve reached within his chest and ripped it right out. He’d never felt anything as horrible as that impotency, that solid, piercing ache that settled within him.

No matter how much Eun Mi reassured those around her that she was fine, she really wasn’t.

“I’ll see you when you get back,” he promised.

Neither of them said anything for a while. Eun Mi hid under the plush, white comforter, barricading herself against the world.

“I should’ve taken that flight.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Who is with you right now?”

“No one. I get a room to myself.”

“Because you’re the leader or because of your insomnia?”

Eun Mi’s smile could be heard through the phone. “Both.”

“Bring me back one of those hotel pillows.”

“What? Out of all the things you could ask for, you want a hotel pillow?”

“Heck yeah! Those things are comfortable! I swear I sleep better in hotel rooms than I do at home.”

“That’s because you spend all your time working at home and when you get to a hotel, you’re too tired to work.”

They talked. Back and forth came and went the insignificant exchange of words that meant the entire world to both of them. Every casual syllable held the weight of the universe, every sentence revealed its secrets. The horrors of their reality faded into nothingness with every silly joke, every outburst of laughter.

Eun Mi relaxed. Her muscles released the pent up energy within them. Her stomach uncoiled itself from the sickening knot tension had tied it into. She hugged the pillows, trying to pretend that it was Taewoon that held her close instead of a cold, lifeless hotel comforter.

Taewoon breathed. His shoulders relaxed. The ache in his head disappeared. His heart pounded in his chest, pumping a flurry of fervent emotions through his body. Concern for someone other than himself, his career, made him vigilant. He picked up the subtle changes of tone, the pauses, the unsaid words; he seemed to have gained a superpower that allowed him to read Eun Mi perfectly.

“You’re falling asleep,” he whispered with a smile.

“Don’t stop talking to me. I don’t want to hang up.”

“You need to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Every day is a big day for us, don’t you think?”

The sadness in her voice gave him pause. She wasn’t wrong.

“Taewoon-ah?”

“Yes?”

“I’m scared.”

Taewoon sat up, kicking the blankets off. “No, Eun Mi, don’t do this.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you dare fall apart while I’m seas and countries away from you. Don’t you dare do it, Song Eun Mi.”

Eun Mi held back the torrent of tears that had been about to spill. She could hold on for a few more days then she would be home, then she would see Taewoon.

“Okay.”

“Good. Get some sleep, alright? I’ll message you tomorrow.”

“You’ll sleep too, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“And, Eun Mi?”

“Yes?”

“Come back to me safely, alright?”

Eun Mi’s cheeks burned. Her heart swirled with a happy feeling she would never be able to describe.

“Yes!”

“Good.” Taewoon smiled, already thinking of the day he’d see her again.

 


	16. The Leaders and the Reporter

Eun Mi tried very, very, very hard not to look in SHINee’s direction. Her heart pounded in her chest, her palms became sweaty. She’d seen them a thousand times in music shows, fan meetings, concerts, and now backstage before official events, but she could never get used to their presence.

SHINee literally shined whenever she saw them. They shined even more onstage. She was really glad that Key wasn’t present, otherwise, she would’ve been a bumbling mess of nerves.

“Noona,” Dae Hyun said with a soft smile. “I think my collar is as straight as it’s going to get.”

“Oh! Sorry!”

Dae Hyun laughed, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “You should just go talk to them. Haven’t you introduced yourself yet, even as a junior?”

“Of course I did! After CELESTIAL first debuted we had a chance meeting before a filming. It would have been incredibly rude not to greet them then.”

“Aw,” he pinched her cheek gently. “You’re so cute when you fangirl.”

Heat rushed to Eun Mi’s cheeks. She punched Dae Hyun in the stomach (lightly), and then moved on to stand beside Ienna.

“It’s obvious,” Tae Jun said.

“What is?”

“That you’re trying very hard not to look at them.”

Alarmed, Eun Mi cast a quick glance at Onew and Minho. They were engaged in light conversation with the two representatives of EXO, Suho and Chen. Onew listened carefully, the corners of his lips upturned in a kind smile. Minho joked, had cute outbursts, and smiled a lot. Eun Mi could feel her heart fill with warmth.

“It’s obvious,” Tae Jun said again.

“What is?”

“That you’re a hopeless fangirl.”

“Ugh. Just shut up.”

Blushing extremely hard, with her heart fluttering infinitely, Eun Mi turned away from SHINee.

* * *

SHINee’s Minho watched the small, black haired girl move around the waiting room. Her hair was too peculiar to forget; a dark waterfall of loose curls that doubled as waves. The momentum of her walk made them bounce or sway depending on her steps. She looked pretty, as always, but there was an unmistakable gloom surrounding her.

“She’s not looking well,” Minho whispered.

“I would imagine so. She’s been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours,” Onew replied.

“Hyung, should we—?”

“We can’t. You know how she feels about this.”

“I know. But if we could just, I don’t know, greet her as her seniors, maybe?”

Onew considered his words quietly. He watched their Shawol straighten up Dae Hyun’s collar, acting more as a coordi noona than an idol. Dae Hyun, the stoic twin, caught his eye and gave him a tiny, almost unperceivable smile.

Tae Jun followed Dae Hyun’s gaze. Onew’s eyes remained steady while Minho’s screamed at him to let them approach Eun Mi.

“If Jonghyun hyung was here, do you think Tae Jun hyung would let us say hello?”

“It isn’t Tae Jun that is keeping us away, it’s Ma Ri herself. You know how she feels.”

Minho’s cute face contorted into a grimace. “I know and I don’t like it. It’s silly. She’s been SHINee World from the very beginning, does she really think we don’t know? Does she really think we wouldn’t figure out that she’s been a loyal fan? Hyung, she can’t really believe she’s as invisible as she thinks she is. Besides, I’m sure she’s dying to get her album copies signed.”

Onew couldn’t help smiling at that. Though Ma Ri had debuted as CELESTIAL’s leader and main vocal Song Eun Mi, she had remained a loyal member of SHINee World. SHINee could see it in her eyes whenever they met her. They thought she would have approached them after debut, but Ma Ri had kept her distance. SHINee only ever saw CELESTIAL’s Leader Eun Mi in public.

She remained respectful to them, a faithful Shawol, only admiring them as idols, never approaching them as individuals.

Tae Jun, as it turned out, used to attend the same high school as Jonghyun. Once he debuted with L6, they’d gotten back in touch; he’d been the one that told them Ma Ri would never approach them.

“She loves SHINee too much. She admires all of you as artists. Approaching you would mean the illusion of SHINee would shatter. You became her anchor, if she loses that, who knows what’ll happen.”

The one that had found that statement outrageous had been Key. He’d laughed loudly, calling it silly, childish, and cowardly. Still, he loved their Shawol Ma Ri too much to go against her wishes, even if he yearned to have a long conversation with her. It was no secret Ma Ri liked Key best, either.

Sighing, Onew shook his head as he turned away from Tae Jun’s even gaze. He smiled at Minho, patting him on the shoulder.

“Minho, let’s not cause her more grief, alright? We need to respect her just as much as she’s respected us.”

Crestfallen, Minho exhaled, pouted, and nodded. “Yes, hyung.”

* * *

“Eun Mi-ah!”

“Unnie!”

Eun Mi braced herself against APink Chorong’s sudden love attack. Her arms went around Eun Mi, holding her tightly, securely. Eun Mi patted her back, comforting her. Ienna stood by Naeun, their arms linked.

“Eun Mi-ah, we were so scared for you! Your manager wouldn’t let us see you at the Stadium. Tae Jun oppa said you were okay but I was worried!”

“I’m doing alright,” she giggled, “don’t worry, unnie.”

“Are you sure you’re doing okay?” Chorong’s eyes were brimmed with tears.

She’d really gotten a fright when she heard her friend had been attacked. She checked Eun Mi up and down, turning her this way and that.

Eun Mi laughed softly. “You know me, strong as a horse! I’m an Aztec warrior, remember?”

Chorong pouted. She continued to look her over, not wanting to miss anything. Naeun, who had come along with her, stroked her hair.

“You’ll worry your members,” Eun Mi scolded in a whisper.

The subtly of her cautionary warning made her fellow leader reign in her emotions. Chorong straightened her back, blinked her tears away, and smiled. Naeun visibly relaxed.

“Unnie,” she smiled at Eun Mi, “are you sure you’re okay?”

Eun Mi reassured her, steering the topic away from her and to LUV’s success. Soon, she had Naeun teaching her and Ienna the key points of the choreography. Eventually, she bullied Dae Hyun into learning too.

“Oppa?” Chorong whispered to Tae Jun. “How is she really doing?”

Tae Jun didn’t look at Chorong. He kept his eyes on Eun Mi.

She’d told him that she’d slept relatively well the night before; the lack of dark circles under her eyes confirmed the fact. Tae Jun had been around Eun Mi long enough to detect the tattle tale signs of when she was about to fall apart; to his surprise and great concern, it really did seem as if Eun Mi was just fine. There was a gloom about her, but it wasn’t threatening.

“She seems to be doing alright.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her in the waiting room.”

Tae Jun nodded. “Thanks.”

“Do they have any idea who might have done it?”

Over the heads of his fellow colleagues, Tae Jun locked eyes with Block B’s Zico.

“No,” he said. “They don’t have a clue as to who might have been behind it.”

Chorong understood.

When the time came for them to be ushered into the press conference area, she and every idol present was determined that no rumors would be fueled.

* * *

Eun Mi was tense. She tried to sit as still as possible, but her nature never allowed her to stay immobile for too long. If she moved her hands, the reporters might take it as a sign of anxiety. If the played with her hair, she could come across as disrespectful.

She conformed to crossing and uncrossing her ankles. Every so often, a question would be addressed to CELESTIAL, so she cleared her throat and spoke slowly, trying to enunciate every syllable properly.

Korean was tricky; if she wasn’t careful, one word could end up having an entirely different meaning. Eun Mi hated being given handicaps for being a foreigner, so she tried her best. Ienna would help her if she needed it, but so far, she managed.

But it wasn’t the questions or the flashing cameras that had Eun Mi feeling so anxious. It was the fact that she was sitting right beside SHINee. Eun Mi tried very, very, very hard to lower her heart rate, to keep her trembling hands still.

She could feel SHINee’s Flaming Charisma Minho lean ever so slightly forward whenever she spoke as if trying to understand her words better. She tried not to, but she imagined Onew with a passive, gentle expression.

The fact that Block B and L6 were sitting behind her didn’t help either. Whenever they addressed a question to Block B, it was always after addressing CELESTIAL. Eun Mi always handed Zico the microphone with a gentle smile, making sure to meet his eyes.

Everyone knew that the reporters were trying to find some sort of validation to the rumors that had been circulating Eun Mi and Zico’s relationship for the past month.

The meeting with the Vietnamese press was easier on Eun Mi than the one with the Korean. The people of Vietnam felt apologetic towards every idol, especially Eun Mi, that something negative happened during an event that was meant to promote friendliness between two nations. Eun Mi did her best to ease their worries.

When they met with the Korean press, Eun Mi could feel her blood begin to run cold. In Mexico, one of her professors had always instructed them that the best questions were those that carried poison.  _Preguntas envenenadas_ , he called them, poisoned questions; the kind that were made while already knowing the answer, the kind that were made to test just how much the other party really knew.

Reporters were cunning. They could proceed with a line of questioning that would eventually confuse the interviewee into contradicting themselves. They say a good liar remembers their lies, so must idols remember what they say in interviews least they dig themselves their own graves.

Eun Mi smelled the poison before it stung.

“Ms. Eun Mi,” one reporter, a short, stout man with a nose too wide and too flat, took his turn.

Graciously, Eun Mi accepted the microphone from Minho, trying to keep her SHINee World excitement from clouding her mind.

“Yes?”

“How is your condition?”

The fierce sound of cameras photographing her reaction sliced the atmosphere. Everyone kept a close eye on her.

“I’m doing very well, thank you for your concern. How about yourself? Have you had a meal yet? I had a delicious bowl of pho yesterday, I highly recommend it!”

Several reporters smiled, others laughed, some even told her she was cute. But this particular reporter smiled rather viciously at her as he pushed his old fashioned glasses up.

“Was that before or after the attack?”

Silence descended upon them with the force of a tsunami. Eun Mi didn’t answer right away. She kept the mic close to her lips, a sign that told them she planned to answer, as she considered her words carefully.

Before she had the chance to respond, the reporter changed gears, aiming his attack at another.

“Mr. Zico, is it true that it was one of Block B’s fans that attacked Ms. Eun Mi? Is it because you don’t like her that your fans took it upon themselves to show it?”

The ruthlessness of his words was followed by a few seconds of utter silence. No reporter wrote or typed, no photographer captured a single shot.

Eun Mi felt someone moving behind her. Zico placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it a little too hard.

“Hand me the mic.”

Their gazes locked. In those three seconds, Eun Mi saw something terrible in them: wrath, pure and chaotic. If she gave him the mic, she knew that Block B would plunge into a scandal that could force them into hiatus again. So, doing what she did best, Eun Mi gave Zico’s hand a gentle squeeze as she turned her attention back to the reporter.

“It wasn’t a BBC,” Eun Mi declared. “BBC do not behave like that, they love and respect Block B. If you take time to pay attention to BBC, you’ll find a very endearing fandom.”

“Are you speaking up for your attacker right now?”

“No, sir, I am not. As far as any of us is concerned, that person could have been anyone. What they wore as they assaulted me could be just as much an attack on Block B as it was on me. The only thing that is for certain is that whoever did it is an anti-fan.”

“Yours?”

“Certainly. I was their target, was I not?”

“Aren’t you being too pompous now? Do you consider yourself that great as to be worthy of anti-fans?”

Zico took the mic from Eun Mi, standing.

“You, sir, have no right to proceed with this line of questioning.”

“Are you being defensive because your fans did this?”

“Whoever did this is no BBC. Even if they claim to be a fan of Block B, I shall never acknowledge them as one.”

“Mr. Zico,” Eun Mi said through clenched teeth. She tried to catch his eye, but he continued to speak, keeping his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from standing.

“So then, could you tell us what your relationship with Ms. Song Eun Mi is?”

“Sure, I’ll tell you.”

Every idol present kept their eyes forward. Eun Mi clasped her hands on her lap tightly. Ienna reached over, placing her hand over hers in an attempt to be comforting. Eun Mi ended up stroking hers to ease her concerned death grip.

“Eun Mi and I just met. We have nothing to do with each other aside from the handful of activities our groups have been in at the same time.”

“Why do you address her so informally then?”

“We’re the same age.”

“Why does she address you so respectfully?”

“He’s my senior,” Eun Mi spoke up. She took the mic Zico offered her and repeated her words. “He’s my senior. Wouldn’t it be rude of me to address him informally when we’re in a work setting?”

“Are you hiding behind your handicap now? Will you say it’s all because you’re a foreigner?”

“Hey, man, ease up,” another reporter said. “Why are you being this rude?”

“You should really shut up now.”

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“Do you think you have the right to harass them this way just because they’re idols?”

“Who do you think you are anyway?”

No one noticed the moment in which Onew silently stood up, left the room, and returned with a group of security. Even the organizers of the event had been too shocked by the man’s fierce hostility towards Eun Mi that they’d sat frozen. The reporters now all turned against their colleague for being so unprofessional.

It wasn’t until security was pulling him out of his seat, escorting him almost forcefully out of the room that some semblance of tranquility returned to the room.

“Let’s take a ten minute break,” one of the organizers said. “We’ll resume afterwards.”

“Mr. Zico,” Eun Mi tugged on his sleeve. “My shoulder if you would, please.”

Zico released her, exiting the room without so much as apologizing. Eun Mi sighed, rubbing the sore area from where he’d gripped too tight.

“Are you alright?”

Eun Mi felt all the air in her lungs disappear into nothingness as she looked up and found SHINee’s Minho’s huge, round eyes focused on her.

“Ms. Song Eun Mi,” he repeated in his gentle and deep voice as he offered her his hand. “Are you alright? Allow me to escort you out, please.”

She nodded, taking his offered arm. Tae Jun and Onew watched her closely, walking behind them.

“There’s a bad taste in my mouth,” Tae Jun scowled. 

“There’s a bad taste in everyone’s mouth,” Onew answered.

* * *

“Eun Mi-ah!”

“Eun Mi!”

Chorong and SISTAR’s Hyorin and Soyou flocked around her in the waiting room. Ienna had taken Naeun to get some drinks for them.

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hmm’?!” Chorong shook her. “Oh no, are you in shock? Should we call the doctor?”

“Unnie,” Eun Mi broke into a smile. “He talked to me!”

“What’s wrong with her?” Soyou exchanged looked with Hyorin.

“Shock?”

Eun Mi broke into a wide smile, hiding her face behind her hands. Her cheeks burned. Heart pounding, she started giggling.

Spanish flowed out of her without warning. “ _¡Ay, Dios mío! Y ahora ¿qué hago?_ _What am I going to do? How can I go back in there?_ ”

She laughed, hugging herself.

“She’s broken,” Hyorin said with the most solemn look on her face.

“No,” Ienna said from the doorway. She had a small smile on her face, but the nervousness in her eyes could not be hidden. She handed her unnies a sweet drink. “She’s not broken.”

“What’s wrong with her then?”

Ienna smiled, feeling relieved and conflicted about her leader’s current state. “She’s fangirling.”

* * *

Eun Mi replayed the memory of SHINee’s Minho acknowledging her over and over, dwelling on his kindness and his large eyes. Every time she thought of how he’d escorted her to the waiting room, she felt like squealing.

Even SHINee’s leader Onew had spoken to her.

“Have strength,” he’d said.

Eun Mi’s stomach burned with happiness. It would have been even better if Key had been present. The thought made Eun Mi choke on air, her face nearly breaking from excitement.

She tried to pull herself together, scolding herself for being so immature.

Still, she couldn’t help it. Her favorite group was in the same building. They would perform on the same stage, and two of its five members had interacted with her. Eun Mi didn’t even remember the awful event with the reporter. Her world was suddenly very… SHINee.

Laughing at her silliness, Eun Mi hugged Ienna, hiding her face. Relishing in her memories.

* * *

She found him in one of the emergency staircases, pacing angrily by the exit door. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Eun Mi started to say something, swallowing her words when he released a frightening roar. Zico whirled around, hitting the wall over and over with his fist.

“Z—Zico!”

Dashing down the last set of steps, Eun Mi rushed to stop him. She wrapped her arms around his, pulling it back. Already his knuckles looked very red.

“Please, calm down,” she begged in a whisper.

“ _You._ ”

Zico jerked his arm away from her. He glared at her with such force his hatred pierced her. He was breathing so hard his nostrils flared. He raised his hand, pointing a finger straight at her face.

“You.” He took a step towards her. “ _You stay away from me._ ”

“I—”

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

They looked at each other. Zico’s eyes burned with rage. Eun Mi’s trembled, wide, almost frightened.

She took a step back, clasped her hands before her, and bowed. “Thank you for your help.”

With that, she took her leave. Zico watched her climb the stairs calmly, her hand on the railing, her heels clicking against the tiles. Her dark hair swayed against her erect back.

If he had been able to see her face, he would have noticed the tears spilling from her eyes. They poured, leaving traces on her cheeks.

When Eun Mi reached her floor, she leaned against the door. Her breath came to her in short, quick gasps. She could feel the panic swirling around, threatening her.

Her legs felt weak. She slumped down, holding herself steady. She couldn’t cry now. She couldn’t fall apart. This was not the place. This was not the time.

She’d promised. She’d promised Taewoon.

And just like that, just like every other time when life had hit her too hard, Eun Mi swallowed her tears. She pushed her feelings to the pits of her heart, forgetting about them, sealing them with songs. When she returned to the waiting room, her bright smile dazzled her colleagues and her voice encouraged them with its beautiful song.


	17. What Matters?

“You’re slipping.”

Taewoon looked up from the notebook he held in his hands. Lyrics were written, scratched out, rewritten, and scratched out again. Different colored inks marked his progress, the notes on the margins had been written in pencil then written over with in red.

“What?”

“I said ‘You’re slipping,’” his rap coach repeated.

Taewoon looked at him blankly. It took him several moments to realize that he wore a very deep, very unpleasant, very angry frown on his face and that no music played. He gripped his notebook tightly, bowing his head. The weight of his thoughts overwhelmed him.

It had been nearly two weeks since Hanoi. Taewoon had not managed to see Eun Mi as of yet. He’d heard of the incident with the reporter during the press conference. Heck, he’d even read the article the man had put out. It had been nothing more than disgusting slander. Netizens had taken care of him, but it didn’t seem like he would be apologizing any time soon.

His concern for Eun Mi, deeper, darker, more prominent than anything he’d felt before, was added to the never ending list of worries.

“Do you think it’s the right time for you to be doing this?”

Taewoon didn’t reply.

“Hey! Woo Taewoon! I’m talking to you!” He pushed him on the shoulder, trying to get him to look him in the eye. “Do you seriously think that it’s the right time for you to be dazing off and slacking? Aren’t you serious about this? Weren’t you the one that wanted to pursue a solo career? Huh?!”

He snatched his notebook away. He flipped through the pages, scoffing. He threw it back at Taewoon.

“You think those are good enough to get you in on  _Show Me The Money_? Don’t make me laugh. They’re absolute crap. What have you been doing lately, huh? Nothing! You don’t even have to worry about the kids anymore, so why are you fucking around like this?

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you!”

Taewoon raised his head.

“Listen to me, Taewoon,” his coach said. “You go into this competition with that kind of mindset and the only thing you will do is prove to the entire nation why your younger brother is better than you. You’ll make a fool of yourself.”

Rage exploded in Taewoon’s stomach. He raised to his feet, startling his coach. The ferocity in his glare made the man cower. For a few seconds, he remained frozen in his seat, looking up at the young man that looked very much like a pissed off bear.

“What do you know?”

Taewoon gathered his things and stormed out of the room.

“Hey! Woo Taewoon! Get your ass back in here!”

Taewoon resisted the urge to flip him off as he sped down the stairs.

No one stopped him as he ran out the door. The sight of a handful of fans made him slow down. They cheered for him, but all Taewoon could do was send them a stiff wave. One of them followed him as far as the main road, where he hailed a taxi.

“Go home, it’s too late for you to be out here.”

Charmed speechless the girl got in the car. “Oppa, you’re the only one for me. You know that, right?”

Another time, Taewoon would’ve smiled at her words; this time, he simply gave a large bill to the driver. “Get her home safely, please.”

* * *

The sound of the front door unlocking made Zico look up from his dinner. Taewoon stormed in in a rage.

“Hyung? Hyung!”

Zico followed him down the hallway into his room. Drawers were jerked opened and slammed shut as Taewoon changed his clothes.

“Hyung, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Taewoon ignored him. He pulled his track suit on, slipping into the hoodie that had long ago lost the scent of spring rain. He zipped it up, taking his running shoes in his hands.

“I’m going for a run.” He tapped Zico on the chest as he walked by. “Tell mom I’ll be out late.”

“Hey, hyung!”

Zico caught up to him at the front door. Taewoon sat on the floor, tying his shoelaces with fast, angry fingers.

“What the hell happened?”

“Later, Zico.”

Zico winced.

He was left staring at a shut door, its heavy slam ringing in his ears, and the knowledge that it had somehow, indirectly, been he that had upset his brother driving nails into his heart.

* * *

Running. Running. Running.

No matter how fast, how hard, how far he ran, Taewoon could not escape the shadow that was Zico.

He had talent too. He had potential. He had just as much passion. More than that, Taewoon had more desperation in he that Zico had ever had.

So why? Why wasn’t he the one climbing to the top? Why wasn’t he the one people recognized on the streets? Why wasn’t Zico Taewoon’s dongsaeng?

He hadn’t managed to break away from his little brother’s shadow as SPEED’s leader Woo Taewoon, so he’d given that up. He’d given up his teammates for a selfish desire. He’d dared leave SPEED behind to chase after his own dreams. He’d given up the name Taewoon and taken on a new one.

Wuno was supposed to indicate his rebirth, mark the beginning of a new phase in his life. Instead, all it did was ring empty.

There was nothing in it. No accomplishments. No recognitions. All the name had brought him was a greater sense of responsibility. There had been no liberation, no fresh start. Instead, now he had to rid himself of two ghosts: Zico’s brother and SPEED’s Taewoon.

Would he be able? Would the world let him?

As he reached the top of the hill, Taewoon’s legs shook, his ankles ached, his lungs burned. He stopped, feeling like he had escaped nothing at all.

He released a frustrated, angry growl as he leaned against St. Cecilia’s stone hedge. Slowly, he sunk down until he sat on the cold pavement. He banged his head rhythmically on the stones, squeezing his eyes shut as his sweat ran down his face.

He drew his knees up, resting his elbows on them, clasping his hands. He bowed his head between them, not bothering to catch his breath.

Everything burned. Everything hurt.

“Oh! It’s Taewoon!”

Surprised at the shimmering voice coming from above him, Taewoon raised his head. The shock of seeing Eun Mi leaning over the top of the hedge nearly stopped his heart.

“What the hell?”

He jumped to his feet, whirling around. Eun Mi, still a full head taller than him up on the hedge, smiled her trademark smile at him.

“So this is what I look like to tall people?”

“What on earth are you doing, Eun Mi-ah?”

“What am I doing? What are you doing? I heard an inhuman sound just now and it scared me half to death! Was that you?”

“What sound was it?”

“Something like an angry bear.”

Taewoon’s cheeks suddenly became extra hot. Eun Mi’s smile broadened. She pulled herself up fully onto the hedge, her legs dangling between them.

“Hey, be careful.” Taewoon raised his arms, worried that she might fall.

“Catch me!”

Alarmed, Taewoon stepped forward, catching Eun Mi and holding her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Are you insane?!”

“Crazy trust exercise,” she mumbled, holding him tighter.

Taewoon became acutely aware of how sweaty he was. Though he’d been dying to see Eun Mi, to hold her, this had not been the manner in which he’d pictured their reunion.

He didn’t care.

Eun Mi had literally fallen out of the sky into his arms. He wasn’t about to let her go anytime soon. Especially tonight.

* * *

Riding a car with Eun Mi at the wheel was one of the most fun things Taewoon had ever done in his life.

She had this thing in which she would play her iPod on shuffle and sing along to every song. The ease in which she switched from one language to another astounded him. She knew every song, even singing the instrumental breaks. Taewoon had never met anyone that could use their car as a karaoke room.

“Sing with me! Sing with me!”

“I don’t know the song.”

“Then rap! Do that freestyle thing rappers like to do.”

“Freestyle thing?”

Eun Mi bounced in her seat; they were waiting at a stop light. “Yeah, you know, when you just start rapping.”

Taewoon found her adorably cute. He could tell she didn’t really know anything about what it meant to be a rapper.

“Su Jong always starts with the same sentence as a warm up. How does it go again? Ah!”

Someone seemed to have taken over Eun Mi, that had to be it, because her gentle personality was replaced by a fierce creature that spat out powerful rhymes. She even mimicked a rapper’s posture as she released a fury of words. Taewoon stared at her in shock.

“Oh, the light’s green!”

And just like that she returned to her usual self.

“Hey, who taught you how to rap?”

Eun Mi glanced at him briefly as she pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket. “I don’t really know how to rap, I just copy Su Jong. He used to be in…is it underground rapping? Underground? Anyway, he really likes rapping.”

“How did you end up imitating him?”

“When we were trainees, we were trying to figure out what ‘talent’ we could show on TV. Su Jong is good at speaking in different dialects, so he was trying to teach me. I didn’t feel comfortable with it, though, so we gave that up. One day, he was being extremely dramatic while practicing, so I made fun of him. By that point, I guess I had grown used to imitating him, I ended up sounding exactly like him. Tae Jun oppa couldn’t stop laughing.”

Eun Mi found an empty parking spot, sliding into it with ease. Taewoon opened the door for her, handing her her bag.

“So your talent is to imitate L6’s Su Jong?”

“No, silly, I imitate rappers!”

The sparkle in her eye gave him pause. He stopped walking, taking her arm gently.

“What? Are you serious?”

Eun Mi smiled, winking. “Look it up when you have the chance. They tell me I’m especially good at imitating Verbal Jint. Someone once said I did a good job with Zion. T, but I’m not too sure.”

Taewoon made a mental note to look into it later as he hurried after her.

* * *

Shopping with Eun Mi was more fun than driving with Eun Mi. She navigated the supermarket so easily, Taewoon had a hard time believing she wasn’t Korean.

“Are you sure you’re Mexican-American?”

“Of course I am!”

She found the ingredient she was looking for on the topmost shelf of aisle ten. She didn’t say anything, she simply looked at Taewoon. Her it’s-not-going-to-get-itself face made it impossible for him to resist the urge to kiss her right then and there.

He reached for the ingredient, looking around briefly. As Eun Mi took it from his hands, he placed a quick, soft peck on her lips.

Her cheeks flushed red, her eyes widened. In that moment, she could not articulate a single word in Korean. The broken words that left her lips were in Spanish, beautiful, lovely Spanish. She ended up smacking his arm with more force than he’d believe her capable of. He flinched, dramatically rubbing his stinging arm.

“You can’t do that here,” she hissed. “People could recognize us.”

Taewoon pinched her cheeks. “You’re not wearing any make up, I doubt they’ll recognize you.”

A pair of middle-aged women walked by them, sending them smiles and teasing looks.

“Oh my, what’s it’s like to be young!”

Eun Mi pulled herself free. She bowed to them apologetically, but they merely giggled, congratulating them. Taewoon threw his arms around her shoulders, resting his head on her head, pulling her against his chest.

“So, does that mean that we’re together now?”

Eun Mi elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted as he released her.

“We’re in public. Now help me find the pastas.”

Taewoon didn’t miss the way in which she stuttered, or how she hid her face behind her hair by bowing her head gently. He slid his hand into hers, twining their fingers together.

“It’s this way.”

When Eun Mi hid her face against his arm, he knew it was because she was embarrassed over what he’d done and not because she feared someone might recognize them; her firm grip on his hand told him so.

With Eun Mi, life didn’t hurt.

Every concern that had plagued him before became so minute, so irrelevant. If he needed any kind of proof he could just look around him.

They were in a supermarket, buying ingredients for some sort of pasta that Eun Mi was learning how to make. She didn’t look up the ingredients on her phone, instead, she carried a small notebook around with her, checking it and cross referencing the names of the ingredients.

She compared prices, read the Nutrition Facts, muttered in Spanish, English, and Korean. She fought with her hair, twisting it this way and that, throwing it over her shoulders then pulling it back. And, of course, she would sing.

There really was nothing normal about their situation. Taewoon hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a long time; the managers always did that for them. He especially hadn’t done so with a girl, much less a very distinct girl.

Everything about them screamed to be noticed. Eun Mi’s ethnicity. Taewoon’s height. Their very apparent relationship and the fact that they were idols. Two idols grocery shopping together without attempting to conceal their identities.

Eun Mi moved about so effortlessly that Taewoon couldn’t help but get caught up in her momentum. She drew him into conversations that began with a subject entirely unrelated to the one she continued with.

“Do you like spicy food?” she’d ask.

“Yeah.”

“I went to the bookstore the other day. I found a book on Cleopatra that my aunt had been looking for. She likes to read biographies, but I think I’m going to read it before I give it to her.”

“Didn’t you buy it for her?”

“Yes, but since she’s not done with the one I let her borrow, I’ll crack this one’s spine first.”

“Taken out of context, that would sound very threatening,” he laughed.

And so went their trip to the grocery store.

Nothing and everything about it was special to Taewoon. Her presence, her unique way of being, so aloof and involved at the same time. By the time they’d reached the cash registers, Taewoon had forgotten the haunting thoughts he’d been trying to run away from earlier.

Until someone recognized him. Sort of.

A girl on the register across from theirs pointed at him while they were finishing up. “Oh! Zico’s hyung! It’s Zico’s hyung!”

He tried to keep his smile, tried to hide just how much he hated being addressed as Zico’s hyung. Taewoon tried to hide Eun Mi, tried to protect her from any misunderstandings or scandals. But Eun Mi wasn’t having it.

She looked the girl full in the face, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Zico’s hyung! Oh my goodness! It’s Zico’s hyung! He’s standing next to you!”

Eun Mi turned around as if she didn’t see whom the girl was speaking about. She even moved Taewoon out of the way, looking behind him to the bewildered woman that stood next in line.

“How can you not recognize him? He’s standing right next to you!”

Eun Mi smiled a very cold smile.

“Woo. Tae. Woon.” She enunciated his name slowly, clearly, defiantly.

The girl seemed to swallow her excitement, choking on it. “I—I’m s—sorry?”

“You should be.” Eun Mi took the bags the stunned cashier offered her. “If you don’t know his name, don’t bother addressing him so comfortably. He’s Woo Taewoon. Remember that.”

Taewoon thanked the cashier for her hard work, rushing after Eun Mi. He caught up to her outside the supermarket, took the bags from her, stealing yet another kiss in the process.

“Hey! Woo Taewoon!”

He couldn’t help laughing as something bitter shattered within him, crumpling into a pile of dust that was blown away.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

Eun Mi shoved him, trying not to smile. “Shut up. Let’s get out of here before someone realizes what happened.”

He blocked her path, keeping her from reaching the driver’s seat.

“Woo Taewoon!”

Taewoon laughed. “Was that so hard?”

“You’re so annoying.” She tried to move him out of the way, rolling her eyes, smiling. “You’re one of the most annoying men I know, Woo Taewoon.”

What did it matter? What did it matter if the rest of the world had no idea who he was? As long as Song Eun Mi knew of his existence, relied on him, and called him by his name, nothing else mattered.

At least in this moment, swept up in her hurricane-like personality, nothing else mattered. 


	18. Photographs

The apartment had been a gift from a great-uncle that liked to invest on properties. The area surrounding it had once been promising, yet the neighborhood did not end up developing as expected. It’d become quiet, simple. The families that had moved in back when the complex had first been built had not moved out. They’d grown comfortable, rooting themselves to their first homes.

Zico had never been to the apartment. He had no need for it with his multiple studios, dorm, and home. Taewoon, on the other hand, had often taken refuge in the two-bedroom, two-bath apartment more than a few times. He’d never brought anyone along with him, not his best friends, much less a past girlfriend.

Having Eun Mi cross the threshold of his sanctuary made his heart quiver.

She looked around, admiring the simple, modern décor. She smiled at the sight of picture frames, inhaled the scent of jasmine incense. The living room consisted of a flat screen TV mounted on the wall across from a black sofa. The black and white rug on the floor matched the rest of the room. The coffee table seemed heavy, but a set of tiny wheels underneath allowed for it to be maneuvered around with ease.

The hallway before the front door led down to the bedrooms, with a coat closet across from the master bedroom. The dining table seated four; the kitchen, with its smooth, modern cabinets was of a reasonable size. All in all, the apartment seemed quite perfect.

“Wow,” Eun Mi said, slipping out of her boots. “You have a really nice place.”

Taewoon didn’t bother telling her that Zico had been the one to remodel the place as he removed his shoes, letting Eun Mi use his house slippers. He set the groceries down on the counter, instructing Eun Mi where she could find the things she needed.

“I’m going to shower. I’m sure I stink.”

Eun Mi scrunched up her nose, nodding. “You smell like roadkill.”

“How do you know what roadkill smells like?”

Taewoon raised his eyebrow, taking a step towards her. “Are you sure that’s what I smell like? Why don’t you take another sniff?”

Eun Mi’s eyes widened in horror as he approached her with open arms. “Ew! Taewoon, no! Get away!”

He chased her around, not really trying to catch her. She ran, warning him to stay away. Finally, just because he could, Taewoon caught her in his bear-like embrace. Eun Mi squealed, laughing, leaning away from him.

“You stink! Taewoon, you stink!”

Grinning, Taewoon placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Make yourself at home. I’ll help with dinner in a bit.”

Eun Mi smiled, watching him disappear down the hallway. He mussed with his hair before slipping out of his hoodie, his shirt stuck to his broad shoulders. Eun Mi couldn’t ignore the weight that made them slump.

She bit her lip, turning her attention to the photographs in the room. There were many with a very pretty woman Eun Mi assumed to be his mother. There were just as many with Zico. When placed side by side, they really looked alike.

Eun Mi stared at them. The longer she looked, the less alike they appeared to her. Zico had stronger eyebrows, sharper cheekbones. Taewoon’s features were softer, gentler, warmer. In another photograph, they stood together while in their stage outfits. That’s where Eun Mi found the most striking similarities.

Their face shape, jawline, their foreheads. But it was their eyes that made Eun Mi’s heart tremble. Taewoon’s were wider, with  _aegyo-sal_ , but there was no denying the striking resemblance between him and Zico when he posed for a shot as SPEED’s leader.  

“That’s what makes this so difficult,” Eun Mi murmured, swallowing the knot that had closed up her throat.

She had no idea why Zico disliked her so much. He’d never told her, never given her the opportunity to ask. At some point she’d stopped seeing Zico as Zico and had started finding Taewoon in his features. So when they were in the same room together, Eun Mi felt as if the walls were closing in on her.

They were brothers, so of course they would share similarities. But when Zico spoke to her so harshly, it cut deeper than it should because he sounded so much like Taewoon, even looked like him sometimes, too. It made Eun Mi so afraid.

Hastily brushing a tear from her cheek, Eun Mi set the photograph down, taking notice of a solitary one-shot of Taewoon. The black and white image tickled her memory.

He stood on what appeared to be either a staircase or balcony. His hair had been simply, cleanly styled. His eyes, framed by round glasses, didn’t look at the camera. Instead, he faced away from whomever had captured the moment. One hand rested loosely by his side, the other inside his pocket.

Eun Mi loved it. She smiled at the image, at how beautiful he looked. Suddenly, she remembered where she’d seen it before.

She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, scrolling through his Instagram account carefully. She smiled when she found that same image towards the end; it had been the third photograph he’d ever posted.

“What are you doing?”

Taewoon stood at the mouth of the hallway, drying his hair with a small towel. He approached her, his jeans brushing the ground.

“You’ll tear those if you let them drag like that.”

“I know, mom,” he laughed.

Eun Mi smacked his stomach lightly, smiling.

Taewoon slid his arm around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He held his phone up before them.

“What are you doing?”

“Say cheese.”

Eun Mi flashed her trademark smile, her tongue peeking from between her teeth. He liked that smile best. She’d leaned in gently against him, and that had created a warmer intimacy in the shot.

Taewoon pulled her closer and kissed her cheek. He felt Eun Mi smile. The picture turned out extremely cute. Eun Mi had smiled, her tightly shut eyes had made her expression all the cuter.

“Oh, I like this one!”

“I like the other one, send it to me,” she said.

She returned the photograph she’d been holding to its proper place. Taewoon looked at her questioningly.

Eun Mi blushed slightly. “I like this one, too,” she confessed.

Taewoon grinned widely. He reached for the frame, placing it in her hands. “Then keep it.”

She took it in her hands, staring at it momentarily before she looked back at Taewoon. He towered over her, like always, his hair still damp from his shower. She admired him, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

“Can I keep you instead?”

Painfully, Taewoon’s heart skipped a beat. He touched her face gently; Eun Mi leaned into his touch. He brushed her cheek with his thumb, their gazes locked. Eun Mi raised her hand, placing it over his.

The questions in her eyes, the hesitation, the fear, mingled with other emotions that Taewoon could not quite decipher. He would seek their meanings later, he would have the time and right to do so.

Eventually, Taewoon’s lips grew cold from the lack of hers. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers for a few seconds before he found her lips, gently setting their world on fire.

They didn’t kiss in a car hiding from paparazzi. They didn’t have a drunken kiss in which they would both blame the alcohol the next morning. Their kiss was real. It happened. Happened at their own pace, under the circumstances they’d wished for it to happen; in a small, quiet space with just them.

A flurry of emotions drowned them. Taewoon could only hold Eun Mi as close as possible and Eun Mi could only be held by Taewoon. Their hearts pounded in their chests, their lips tingled with tender sensations.

Taewoon gave her a gentle peck as he drew away. Eun Mi wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. She rested her head against his chest; he stroked her hair lovingly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Taewoon laughed, nuzzling her cheek. “Silly girl, you already had me.” 


	19. Take Two

Spring arrived. The mornings soon lost all trace of winter’s chill, the sky gleamed with soft hues of blue.

The drama from Hanoi had long been forgotten, buried underneath greater, more appalling or senseless scandals. The authorities had never found the assailant; though it made Eun Mi, the company, and those around her weary and restless, life went on.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Minah combed her fingers through Eun Mi’s waves, cradling her niece in her arms.

“Not really,” Eun Mi said in a small voice.

After the fiasco with her last variety/reality show, it had taken a lot of persuasion to even get Eun Mi to audition for another program. She wasn’t camera shy, she knew how to interact with the public through those frightening devices better than most rookies; it was the dark shadow that Zico had cast over her that had made her hesitate. In the end, she’d done it only for CELESTIAL—and maybe to prove something to herself. Maybe Zico. Eun Mi didn’t really know.

“Do you know who you’ll be in this show with?”

“No.”

Minah’s fingers paused. She abandoned Korean, speaking to Eun Mi in heated Spanish. “ _What do you mean you don’t know? Didn’t the producers tell you who you would be working with?_ ”

“ _They didn’t tell me anything, tía. Aside from the basic outline of the program, I don’t know anything._ ”

“ _So you’re telling me that you’re off to share a house with strangers and you won’t even meet them beforehand?_ ”

“ _We’re supposed to meet tomorrow,_ ” Eun Mi reassured her. “ _The script says we’re supposed to play a game, something to get us interested in one another._ ”

Minah shook her head, disapproving of the program’s setup. “ _Don’t these programs usually have a press conference of sorts?_ ”

Eun Mi kept herself from flinching. She’d had enough of press conferences in the past few weeks to last her a lifetime, but work was work. She suddenly longed for Taewoon’s protective arms fiercely.

“ _We’re having it in a few days. The plan is to show the preview to the news outlets then._ ”

The lack of color in her niece’s face didn’t escape Minah. She hugged her closer, rubbing her cheek against hers.

“ _My little sea, my little sun!_ ”

Eun Mi smiled at the old nickname, taking all the comfort her aunt offered her. Her phone vibrated, dancing across the coffee table. Minah eyed it knowingly.

“ _When will you introduce me to this muchacho?_ ”

Blushing, Eun Mi scooped up the device. “ _L-later. Only if it’s serious. I love you,_   _tía_.” She gave her a kiss on the forehead, escaping further interrogation by fleeing to her bedroom.

Minah sighed. “Darling, it’s so very obvious that it’s already serious.”

She looked at the small picture frame where her deceased sister and brother-in-law held their eight-year-old daughter in a loving embrace, squeezing her between them. Minah brought her hands together, bowing her head in prayer.

“Oh, please, God, watch over Your little sea, Your little sun. Dear Lady, please protect her; keep her safe underneath your blue mantel. Sister, brother, please,  _please_  don’t forget your daughter. Oh, God, please.”

Even Eun Mi’s tinkling laughter could not ease the deep foreboding that gripped Minah’s heart.

* * *

 

“Unnie, unnie!” Ienna held the camera greedily, filming Eun Mi as she proceeded to pack. “Say hello to the camera.”

Eun Mi raised her head, pushing her hair out of her face. She stared at the camera, looked over the device to Ienna, and laughed softly.

“Our Ienna should have been a film student instead.”

“I’ll be a director someday!”

Having Ienna film her as she packed made everything fun. Soon, ReNA and Chae joined them, taking over Eun Mi’s bed.

“Unnie, I think you should tell the viewers why you have your own room.”

Eun Mi jumped onto the bed, laying over ReNA and Chae. They squealed, laughing as Eun Mi settled over their stomachs.

“Because I’m the leader!”

“Eey!”

After they finished filming, saying goodnight into the camera and waving goodbye, Eun Mi turned to girls with a solemn look.

“Where is DAEE?”

“She said she was going to practice.”

“Practice?”

A strange feeling prickled her mind. She gave DAEE a call, asking her to return early.

“Y—yeah! I—I’ll be over right away! J—just give me a few minutes!”

Eun Mi had stared at the phone after DAEE had hurriedly hung up. She knocked on the managers’ door, listening. Carefully, she opened it, finding both of them asleep. When DAEE came home, Eun Mi noted how frightened, nervous, and out of breath she was.

“DAEE.”

She yelped, tripping over her feet and landing on her knees. DAEE looked up at her leader, her dark eyes wide with anxiety.

“Where were you DAEE?”

“P—practicing.”

Eun Mi helped her stand. She could smell something unusual yet familiar on her; the scent of sweat mingled with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“DAEE, I hope that you’re at least being careful. When you’re ready to tell me what you’re doing, I’ll listen.”

“I—I’m not doing anything, unnie, I swear!”

“Don’t swear in vain.”

DAEE flinched, bowing her head. They stood in silence for a few moments before Eun Mi sighed.

“Go to bed, DAEE, and please,  _please_  be careful.”

DAEE fled, her cheeks burning in embarrassment and shame. One of the reasons they’d selected Eun Mi as their leader was because of how intuitive she could be. More than that, it had been because her intuition always proved to be right.

Now, with a secret that weighed on her heart, DAEE worried. She worried that Eun Mi would find out. She worried that she would tell the company. She worried that what she had just begun would be crushed under the weight of her position as an idol.

So much could go wrong. She couldn’t tell anyone, not even Eun Mi. Her leader would only tell her what she did not want to hear, advice to do the unthinkable.

DAEE had to keep this to herself. She just had to.

Eun Mi watched as DAEE disappeared into her room. She knew just what it was that DAEE wanted so much to hide. Her desire to keep it hidden had only made it more obvious. Yet the only thing Eun Mi could do was watch over her until DAEE decided to tell her on her own.

Eun Mi hoped that it wouldn’t be too late by then.

*

S Broadcasting’s camera crew met Eun Mi at the hair salon. The concept of the first filming session had yet to be revealed to her, but they’d asked to meet with her for a brief introduction. Her hair stylist had just finished weaving a ribbon into her braid when the cameras began recording; the makeup artist placed the finishing touches on her lips, making for a lovely scene.

“What is this? Is it a mission?” Eun Mi took the blue envelope that the writer, Ms. Kang, offered her. They had moved into a van, multiple cameras were angled in her direction. She’d had no idea that so many cameras were required to film a single person. She looked at the one to her right, making a face, before she returned her attention to the task at hand.

“I’m excited,” she said, aware that she must speak while under such scrutiny. She opened up the envelope, playfully adding her own background music.

“Cha-chan!” she said as she pulled the mission card out. “Figure out who your new roommates are. From this moment onwards, every person you meet is a clue! Beware, not everyone is who they appear to be.”

Eun Mi looked at the writer, laughing. “Riddles? Really? I’m so bad at them!”

“When we arrive at the first location, you’ll meet a series of people. They’re clues. You will be given two minutes to ask them anything you want. Remember what they say and ask good questions.”

“Is there a prize for whomever figures it out first?”

“Maybe.”

“Eey,” Eun Mi laughed. “There’s nothing, there’s nothing!”

The crew laughed along with her, charmed by her enthusiasm and playful nature.

Eun Mi checked her appearance in one of the cameras, pushing her braid out of the way. Her stylist had woken up very early to prepare her for the first filming. Eun Mi made a note to buy her a meal or a small gift as a thank you.

“Mr. Driver,” she said. “Would it be alright if we played some music?”

Later, when the first episode aired, the entire nation would find out just how much like a karaoke room Eun Mi utilized cars.

* * *

 

Eun Mi looked around. They were in one of the busier neighborhoods of Seoul; the large buildings dwarfed their existence.

“Unnie,” she tugged on Ms. Kang’s sleeve. “If we walk around here, I’ll be bound to get lost. Would that still be fine? I don’t want to cause any trouble for the crew.”

Ms. Kang smiled, indicating the tall, white building before them. “I think we’ll find you if you limit yourself to getting lost in there.”

Visibly relieved, Eun Mi’s smile returned. She grabbed her backpack’s straps, jumping up and down in place.

Ms. Kang explained the game to her. Hidden inside where the “living clues.” She had to find each clue on her own without any help of any kind. Once she found said clues, she would be given two minutes to analyze “it.” If she chose a level already occupied, she would be frozen in place until the other person vacated the premises; she would lose the amount of time she’d be frozen. The rooftop was the final destination. She had to figure out the cast before the time ran out.

“So I have to stop on each floor and avoid the cast while looking for human clues?”

“Yes.”

Eun Mi look into a camera with disbelief. “What is this?”

“You have an hour. If you fail, there will be a punishment.”

“You should have told me that before!”

They had to wait a few more minutes before they were given the green light. Eun Mi rushed into the building, proceeding at a light jog.

“I wonder who I’ll meet.” Eun Mi talked to one of the cameras. “Maybe it’ll be an actor. Kim Woo Bin? Lee Min Ho? My aunt is a big fan of Lee Min Ho, if he’s around, I’ll ask him for his autograph.”

She looked around the lobby, talking excitedly. She paused once, fishing a little notebook out of her bag.

“If they’re clues, I need to write down who they are and what they say. Look,” she pointed to the hardcover of her notebook, “it even has post-it notes. Isn’t it cute?”

Finally, in one of the rooms furthest from the entrance, Eun Mi found her first clue.

She stopped, giving the crew a really bored look. She pushed the door open.

Su Jong sat with his back to her, playing with his phone while a single camera filmed him. Eun Mi approached him quietly, scribbling into her notebook.

“Hey, Kim Su Jong!”

Startled, Su Jong whirled around in the chair, blinking in fright as Eun Mi stuck a post-it to his forehead. The word “CLUE” written on it in bold, black ink.

“What the—”

“Shh! You’re being filmed now.”

“Eun Mi, what are you doing here?”

“Me? I should be the one asking the questions here.”

Ms. Kang positioned a stopwatch before one of the cameras. “You have two minutes, starting now.”

Without waiting for Su Jong to make heads or tails of the situation, Eun Mi interrogated him. By the time the two minutes were up, Su Jong knew that if Eun Mi ever became a detective, she would be quite a scary one.

“Time’s up.”

Eun Mi grinned, patting Su Jong on the shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll text you later, Jongie.”

Before she left, she gave him a little bottle of vitamin juice, giving him a knowing smile. Su Jong laughed.

“Be careful out there. Don’t hurt anybody.”

“You make me sound so evil.”

“That’s because you are.”

Eun Mi winked at him as she left the room. “You know it.”

* * *

 

The building had twelve levels, including the basement garage and the roof.

“I must stop at every floor, right?”

“Yes.”

She wrote the number ten in her notebook.

“Why are you doing that?”

“There’s ten cast members, including myself.”

“Why?”

“The rooftop doesn’t count since it’s the final destination. The basement doesn’t count because that’s where the parking lot is. It would be dangerous to film down there. The first clue was Su Jong. That means that one of the cast is likely a member of L6. Since Jongie is part of L6, I’ll head to the sixth floor.”

She turned to the camera. “AMORES, you can’t just love one. Bang!” Imitating Su Jong, she fired a single finger-gun.

From then on, Eun Mi made her way through each floor with ease. With twenty minutes left, she’d met VIXX’s Hongbin on the sixth floor, KARA’s Youngji on the second, APink’s Bomi on the third, AOA’s Choa on the fourth, SISTAR’s Dasom on the eighth, and FT Island’s Hongki on the ninth.

She’d been lucky enough not to select floors that were already occupied. She also tried her best to be as quick as possible in case anyone were frozen while she looked.

On the fifth floor she’d found ReNA. After making sure that she was doing alright, she’d gone all the way up to the tenth floor. Where she’d had a very awkward encounter with Infinite’s L.

Her cheeks had gotten very hot as she found him staring out a window. He looked so picturesque that it became impossible to speak without stuttering.

“H-hello,” she’d said as she’d entered the room cautiously, bowing.

“Oh, hello.” L had bowed to her in greeting.

“I’m Song Eun Mi, it’s a pleasure to meet you,  _sunbaenim_.”

L had smiled shyly, bowing yet again at her sudden bow. “Song Eun Mi? From CELESTIAL?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re same-age friends, aren’t we?”

“Y-yes!”

“Then please talk to me comfortably.” He’d laughed softly.

Eun Mi had had no idea what to say, so she’d escaped before her two minutes had been up.

“Why did you do that?” Ms. Kang had asked. “Is he your type?”

“No,” Eun Mi had said breathlessly. “He’s not my type but he’s still so very handsome. He’s out of this world.”

Now, the only floor left to check was the seventh. Eun Mi pressed down on the button.

“Lucky seven,” she held up seven fingers to the camera. “My last clue.”

She walked around the seventh floor, singing Block B’s  _Nillili Mambo_  under her breath.

“Is there any particular reason as to why you’re singing that song?” the cameraman asked her.

“Block B’s number is seven. Lucky seven.”

“Do you like Block B?”

Eun Mi grinned, but before she could answer, she spotted a familiar face inside an office. “Oh! Park Kyung!”

* * *

 

Kyung heard Eun Mi’s voice and froze. His mouth fell open in horrified shock. He looked from the cameraman to cameraman, finally settling on the writer. She pushed her glasses up, avoiding his gaze.

“O-oh, Eun Mi.”

“Hurry, hurry, we only have two minutes!”

Park Kyung forced himself to act as if the scene didn’t unsettle him, as if he did not fear what was to come. Eun Mi, up until now, had no idea.

In the past hour, Kyung had met with more than half the cast. He’d been able to guess the concept of the program pretty quickly.

“Did you figure it out?” he asked, interrupting her.

“Not yet, I’m gathering as much information as I can first.”

“Has anyone been disqualified?”

Eun Mi sighed, tilting her head in exasperation. “A while back two others met up on the fifth floor, ReNA told me.”

Kyung stalled as much as he could, but he knew that Eun Mi would eventually put it together despite his attempts to keep her from the truth for as long as possible.

“Time’s up,” Ms. Kang said.

Eun Mi groaned, shooting Kyung an accusing look. “Who did you team up with? Are you betraying me?”

“Eey! I’m in no one’s team except Park Kyung’s team! Park Kyung’s team!”

“Unnie, how much time do I have left?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“I have to guess my roommates in fifteen minutes?”

Kyung tried to catch her eye, tried to warn her as she made her way out of the room.

“Eun Mi-ah.”

“Oh, Kyung-ah, I’ll see you later! Thank you for your hard work!”

Eun Mi disappeared just as suddenly as she’d appeared. Kyung looked at the cameraman, covering the lens with his hand. The cameraman stopped recording.

“Really? You put them both in this?”

“It was the producers’ decision.”

“Well,” Kyung whispered, “you might want to warn them that this might not air after all.”

* * *

 

Eun Mi sat in a corner, hidden away from any praying eyes. She looked at her notes carefully. After Su Jong, she’d asked the same questions to all the members.

“Eun Mi, you have to talk,” the cameraman advised her.

“Oh, right.” Eun Mi showed him her notes. “I asked every person the same questions, except for ReNA, Su Jong, and L  _sunbaenim_. Kyung was not helpful at all.”

She looked at the list, considering every answer. “There’s no similarity in any of their answers, though.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes.

“Wait!” she beamed. “What if it isn’t what they  _said_ , but who they  _are?_  They’re all idols, right? So all my roommates must be idols as well!”

Eun Mi rearranged her notes, creating profiles out of all the idols she’d met, looking for the similarities.

Surprised beyond belief, Ms. Kang watched her work. “How do you know all of that?”

“Know what?” Eun Mi continued to write down the members’ profiles, tearing the pages out of her notebook and spreading them out carefully.

“Their profiles.”

“Oh, that. I don’t know, once I hear about a person, I never forget them. Something like that.”

Eun Mi laughed it off, unwilling to reveal just how much of a K-Pop fan she was. She separated the profiles by gender.

“Five men, five women, right? Okay, now what else? What is going on here?”

She considered each member carefully. She’d written down their group, age, and position. Slowly, she saw it.

“Leaders,” she whispered, looking up at the camera. “The cast is made up of leaders!”

Packing her things in a rush, she dashed for the emergency stairs. “How much time do I have left?”

“Three minutes.”

“I’m sorry everyone, but you’re going to have to run! I’m not risking it!”

She ran up the stairs, leaving Ms. Kang far behind. The cameraman did a good job at keeping up. When she burst through to the roof, she found a camera crew already waiting.

“Eun Mi,” Heo PD, the main PD, stepped forward from the lumped mass of cameramen and writers. “You have a minute.”

Eun Mi sprinted the rest of the way, taking the seat before the cameras.

“Who are your new roommates?”

But before Eun Mi could say anything, he emerged from within the building, his blond hair somewhat disheveled. A cold hush fell upon the rooftop. Eun Mi’s hands began to shake. She forced herself to speak, to ignore the fear that gripped her stomach.

Looking at the camera had never before felt so cowardly.

“APink’s Chorong, SISTAR’s Hyolyn, KARA’s Gyuri, AOA’s Jimin, L6’s Tae Jun, VIXX’s N, FT Island’s Jonghoon, Infintie’s Sunggyu, and,” she hesitated, swallowing the sudden lump that had formed in her throat, “Block B’s Zico.”

It was almost as if she’d summoned him.


	20. Follow the Leader

Heo PD took a deep drag of his cigarette, exhaling over his head, beyond the edge of the rooftop. He could hear the crew packing up after finishing the opening scene. Surprisingly, one of the idols had managed to solve the silly game the writers had come up with. He liked that her, Song Eun Mi; he could see the spunk in her eyes.

“Mr. Heo.”

Heo PD did not even flinch when he heard Zico’s voice from beside him. “What is it, Mr. Zico?”

“May I have a word with you in private?”

He continued to smoke, filling his lungs with the poison that he was sure one day would kill him but kept the stress and bad moods away. “In private? We’re in the middle of filming.”

“It’s important.”

The tightness in his voice, the narrowed eyebrows, the fierce deadness in his eyes told Heo PD that no matter how much Zico had seen, he was still nothing but a child. He recognized the urgency of youth in him, the ferocity with which he believed life should be lived.

Heo PD remembered having lived like that in a life past (perhaps two). A life before he started worrying about his wife’s failing health, about the bills that accumulated over the years; a life before he had traded the guitar for cigarettes.

“I’m sure it is.” He finished his cigarette, putting it out inside a little leather pouch. He hadn’t emptied it out in a few days, cigarette butts were beginning to accumulate.

“Sir,” Zico glanced around them, lowering his voice. “This is about one of the cast members.”

“For goodness sake, Zico can’t you be professional for once? Whatever your issue is with them could you at least act like they’re nothing to you? Too many people are depending on this program’s success. Do us all a favor and act like an adult.”

Stunned, Zico could only look at him. Heo PD felt slightly guilty for having spoken so harshly, but he had said nothing that wasn’t true. He’d heard of the rumors that followed Zico and Song Eun Mi wherever they went. Having them together was clearly a bad idea, but that’s how the higher ups had wanted it. He had no say beyond that which was to be filmed.

“Listen, if you make a scene, it will get out. You will place yourself at the center of a scandal and bring that other person down with you. In your line of work, a scandal every now and then is good for publicity, sure, but in this case, that would only complicate things for a lot of people.”

He heard his assistant calling him. Placing a hand on Zico’s shoulder as he walked by, he whispered. “I will try to make it easier for you both as long as you behave. For now, do not take car number two.”

Giving him a small pat, Heo PD headed back to work.

* * *

Tae Jun watched Zico approach Heo PD. A bad taste spread across his mouth, sliding down his throat, settling at the pit of his stomach.

“Hey,” Eun Mi waved a hand before him. “Don’t mind him.”

“How can I not? He’s only trouble.”

“Oh as if you’re such a model citizen.”

Tae Jun snapped his head around, looking at her with dark, accusing eyes. “Are you comparing me to that piece of—?”

Eun Mi released a deep, heavy sigh, shaking her head. “If you’re so much better than him then prove it. Be _professional_. Don’t let what happened between him and I affect how you treat him. That’s not the kind of person you are, oppa.”

He knew what Eun Mi meant, knew that he could not bring himself to fully dislike Zico simply because he and Eun Mi didn’t get along. He didn’t like the way he treated her, but he had done a well enough job at the press conference in Hanoi.

“He’s just bad news, Eun Mi-ah.”

“You don’t know that. Just because bad things have happened while he’s around doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.”

Tae Jun’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

Eun Mi shrugged. She glanced at Zico, glanced at him and felt his presence punch her in the gut. Her palms began to sweat, her hands to tremble. She clasped them so that Tae Jun would not see how afraid she was.

“Be professional,” she said, making her way to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Lady’s room, why? You want to tag along?”

“Don’t sass me.”

Sticking her tongue out at him, Eun Mi made her way out of the crowd. Only after she was safely hidden from any preying eyes inside a bathroom stall did she begin to gasp for air.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Things had gone so terribly wrong again.

She tried to remember her breathing exercises, the kind her therapist always told her she must practice when she felt the world began to swallow her whole. But breathing never helped because she could never get her lungs to work properly.

“C-calm down, Eun Mi. Nothing bad will happen.”

She said a prayer, stumbled through the words, started again, whimpered and clutched her chest. The tiles were cold against her bare legs, the world began to fade and return in warped shapes.

The sudden buzz of her phone made her yelp loudly. She fished it out of her pocket with trembling hands, praying that it wasn’t Tae Jun. The name on the screen eased the pain in her chest, opened up her lungs.

“Hey.”

Taewoon’s voice soothed her. She took several gulps of oxygen, leaning against the stall’s door.

“Taewoon.”

“What’s the matter? Did something happen? Where are you?”

“I’m alright. I’m just a little out of breath.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. His voice reached her slowly, treading its way across the phone line to her, deep, gentle, kind.

“Not now, Eun Mi. It isn’t the time or place.”

Eun Mi gripped the phone with a shaking hand. She inhaled deeply, swallowing the knot in her throat, beating down the fear.

“Taewoon.”

“Eun Mi, listen to me, when you have a chance, after your schedules, I’ll come get you. We’ll go out for spicy rice cakes, how does that sound?”

Eun Mi’s stomach growled in response. She blushed even though there was no way Taewoon could’ve heard it. She placed her hand against her cheek, trying to push down the heat. “T-that sounds great!”

Taewoon chuckled. “Eun Mi-ah, hang in there, my dearest.”

If Eun Mi had had any strength in her legs left it would’ve disappeared instantly. She leaned against the door, biting her lip to drown out her squeals. Her smile ripped through, her giggles bubbled out.

Cheering her on wasn’t much, promising dinner didn’t seem like anything at all, but it was all Taewoon could do.

* * *

The atmosphere was awkward. Eun Mi stole glances at Choi Jonghoon then stared at one of the cameras with wide eyes. They’d been paired off by drawing lots (although Eun Mi had been specifically instructed to take a certain slip) and she had ended up in the same team as FT Island’s quiet leader.

Each team had been given a shopping list with different groceries they must buy before heading to “Leader HQ.” Eun Mi had felt terrible for Tae Jun; he’d driven off with a sulking Zico in the passenger seat.

Now, with no one else around them, Eun Mi felt the reality of the program settling in. She continued to look around awkwardly, she could even see the captions they would add at the bottom of the screen: _Meanwhile, in this awkward silence….Still nothing._

In truth, Eun Mi wanted to ask him so many things, but she knew that she couldn’t assault him with endless questions. Her Primadonna side kept rearing her yellow head. Eun Mi fiddled with her hands, trying her hardest to keep quiet…

And failing.

“ _Sunbaenim_ ,” she started, “congratulations on your comeback.”

Looking a little surprised, Jonghoon brought the car to a stop at a red light. He turned to look at her, his eyes steady and somewhat shy.

“Uh, thank you.”

In truth, he doubted that the young junior idol beside him even knew just how long and hard FT Island had worked for this particular album. Most junior groups congratulated them out of forced politeness, with very few actually harboring any well-meaning.

Eun Mi jumped in her seat, angling her body towards him. “Congratulations on your FTHX tour, I heard it went really well!”

Jonghoon didn’t know what to say. It had been a while since their FTHX tour had ended and their promotions for _Pray_ were nearing their end. He hadn’t expected her to know so much about FT Island. He felt as if he were about to be swept away by a powerful current.

“You know FT Island?”

“I love FT Island!”

With that Eun Mi started singing a medley of their more popular songs. Jonghoon felt his lips twitch, a happy smile making its way across his face.

“Do you play any instruments, Ms. Eun Mi?”

“I play the guitar, but it’s nothing impressive.”

“Oh, really? The guitar?”

The rest of the ride was filled with talk about guitars and music. Jonghoon enjoyed talking to Eun Mi, she knew more than she had let on. Jonghoon could also see that she played the instrument often from the old callouses on her fingers.

Jonghoon made a point to ask her more about her music later. As he pulled into the supermarket’s parking lot, he spotted another team making their way indoors.

“Ms. Eun Mi, do you know what this program is about?”

“I have no idea.”

He laughed. “That seems to really bother you.”

“It really does. They made us pack and this ‘Leader HQ’ they mentioned earlier—Do you think it’s like some sort of dorm life?”

“Eey, there’s no way!”

“ _Sunbaenim_ , please don’t jinx us.”

“What? You’re pinning it on me? That’s ridiculous!”

“What if we do end up in this ‘dorm life’? It’ll just be leaders.”

“That’s an interesting concept. Maybe it’s a survival show. May the best leader survive.”

For some reason, Eun Mi found that statement hilarious. Jonghoon had to wait for her hiccupping guffaws to stop before getting out of the car. He really didn’t believe his comment had been funny at all, but Eun Mi carefully wiped away the laughter tears that had accumulated at the corner of her eyes.

He found himself thinking of her as a little sister, someone that could talk music with him and laugh at the lame jokes he made.

* * *

Zico walked beside Tae Jun. He held the list of the things they must buy but he had not read it. The car ride to the supermarket had been made in absolute silence. The cameramen in charge of them felt ill at ease.

Tae Jun stopped walking. Zico came to sudden halt beside him. Somehow, he felt small when he stood next to Tae Jun.

His aura weighed down on him, his dark eyes seemed to penetrate every defense he put up. Though he remained expressionless, he was still really handsome. His dark hair fell across his forehead in sharp wisps, somewhat hiding his thick and sharp eyebrows. He had a sharp nose, and thin lips that were quick to reveal his displeasure.

“Hand me that.”

“Y-yes.”

Zico gave him the list, feeling small and insecure. It was unlike him, to be frightened by anyone, yet there was something about Tae Jun that made him think that he would be murdered swiftly and effectively if he crossed him.

Choi Tae Jun was taller, older, and more experienced than Zico. Usually, Zico did not feel the difference in age, talent, or experience; with Tae Jun, he sensed it to the point where it almost suffocated him with fear.

As he handed him the list, he spotted a Celtic crescent moon tattooed on the inside of his wrist. The black and blue ink were distinct, yet the tattoo was small enough to be hidden by a thick bracelet or watch.

“They’re letting us broadcast our tattoos?”

Tae Jun looked up from the list, briefly glancing at Zico. He noted that he wore a carefully selected outfit that would hide that which should not be there.

Tae Jun scoffed. “Whether or not they let us, I don’t particularly care. They can take the time to censor it out if it’s a problem.”

The camera men exchanged uneasy glances. Zico stared at Tae Jun, the force of his words paralyzing him.

“Hey! Choi Tae Jun!”

Tae Jun flinched, hunching his shoulders. “Aw, shit.”

Eun Mi stormed up to him, her hands on her hips, a very amused Jonghoon tagging along behind her. “What was that? Are you giving the crew a hard time?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Cover it up.”

“It’s a violation of my human rights.”

Frowning, Eun Mi pulled the smallest ribbon at the end of her braid off. She took his hand, wrapping the blue fabric around his wrist.

“Drop the attitude.”

Tae Jun rolled his eyes, smiling softly. “I was just having some fun.”

“Well stop it. We’re working. Now show me your list.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?”

“I don’t know. And if it is, it’s fine as long as the writers don’t find out.”

“We ditched ours,” Jonghoon said with a grin.

“Eun Mi-ah, what have you been doing?”

“Oh, this and that. Now let me see.”

They exchanged lists momentarily. When they seemed satisfied, Eun Mi returned Zico their list.

“Don’t let his Marine face scare you. He’s really not that tough. See you guys later.”

Jonghoon led the way, with Eun Mi behind him.

Zico turned to Tae Jun, surprise and shock written on his face. “M-Marine?”

Tae Jun shrugged. “They’re not as bad as people think.”

“You already did your military service? When? How?”

“As soon as I turned eighteen.”

Zico fell in step with him, following him down the aisles in stunned silence. He couldn’t begin to imagine himself in the military; the fact that Tae Jun had completed his service so early made Zico feel as if he were falling behind. It was stupid to think that, to compare himself to another based on whether he’d completed his military service or not, but he couldn’t help it.

“Why?”

“Why did I enlist so young?”

Zico gave a single nod.

Tae Jun smiled, throwing a bag of rice into the basket. “So that I could debut with L6 and not worry about leaving them on their own.”

One of the camera men sighed, lowering the camera. “Guys, this definitely won’t air.”

Tae Jun smacked his forehead with his hand. “Alright, let’s try this again. Let’s actually mean it this time.”

* * *

Ienna answered the phone on the third ring, licking soy sauce off her finger as she did so. She didn’t have to look at the screen to know that Eun Mi was the one calling.

“Hello! Unnie, did you finish filming already?”

“For today, at least.”

Ienna sensed the exhaustion in her voice. She put the rice down, listening intently to her leader’s words.

“Unnie, will you be coming back tonight?”

“No, it doesn’t seem like I will.”

“What kind of program is it? Have they told you?”

“Yes, it’s somewhat complicated when you first hear it.”

Eun Mi explained how the leaders were expected to live in a dorm. Every two weeks or so they would be officially filming, but they were also welcome and even encouraged to stop by as often as they could.

“Isn’t it like _Roommate_?”

“Yes, that’s what we were all wondering, too. It seems like there will be missions for us though.”

“Honestly, unnie, it sounds like a mess.”

“Doesn’t it?” Eun Mi laughed.

Ienna could picture her rubbing her forehead in defeat, a rare sight, but a meaningful one when it appeared. She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder, proceeding to wash the rice. She felt nervous doing it on her own without Eun Mi’s guidance, but she had been told that she could do it well enough.

She listen to Eun Mi describe the program.

The producers and writers had aimed for a cast that would lure in international viewers as well as domestic, which is why they had created a program with idols as the center. Eun Mi had her doubts about its success in Korea, but she figured that the international fans would really appreciate a program where they could see their favorite idols interact with one another.

Living in a dorm with people she didn’t know made Eun Mi hesitate.

“You have to share a room?” Ienna nearly dropped the rice.

Eun Mi sighed. “Mm. I have to share a room.”

“Unnie, that’s no good! Why did you agree to this? Why did Manager Jo agree to this?”

“I have no idea,” Eun Mi’s laugh sounded somewhat hallow. “Apparently, the companies were aware of what the program entailed. Keeping us in the dark is all part of the concept.”

“What kind of crazy concept is that?”

“We’re all leaders, Ienna. They want to see how we will react to unexpected situations. Give the position of a leader more meaning than just a name.”

“That’s stupid! We selected you as our leader for a reason!”

“The public doesn’t know that. What goes on behind the scenes, the reasons why we were selected to lead, the public knows none of that.”

Ienna shook her head, turning away from the rice cooker and back to the noodles. “It just sounds so flimsy.”

“We just need to trust the production crew. They must know what they’re doing otherwise the program wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“Unnie, who’s sharing a room with you?”

“Chorong unnie.”

She exhale a sigh of relief. “That’s great! Who else is sharing the dorm?”

“Tae Jun oppa is here.”

“Really?! That means that L6 is leaderless tonight as well? Kain oppa is bound to stay up all night without Tae Jun oppa to herd him to bed.”

“Su Jongie is there. From the looks of it, Tae Jun left very strict instructions. Even the managers are under his tyrant rule.”

“Unnie, you make him sound like such a bad guy!” Ienna laughed, taking a noodle and tossing it against the wall. It bounced off, landing on the stove. She frowned at it.

“Ienna, call the girls.”

Ienna did as she was told. ReNA and Chae gathered around the countertop, looking down at the prettiest picture of their leader on the phone’s screen. DAEE lingered by her bedroom door, only joining them when Eun Mi had a rollcall.

“Listen girls, I won’t be coming home tonight. Tomorrow, a small camera crew will follow me. Since we have practice tomorrow, behave as you normally do. ReNA, please help Ienna with the noodles, she’s still learning.”

“Unnie! How did you know? Are you spying on us? Did you leave little cameras around the dorm?”

The thought of Eun Mi having them under surveillance made DAEE nervous. Her palms became sticky. She wiped them on her jeans discreetly as she looked around the room.

“You were arguing with them just a few minutes ago. Don’t forget to clean the kitchen as soon as you’re done. It better not be Ienna doing everything, do you hear me?”

“Yes!”

“Good. I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

“Good night, unnie!”

* * *

Sighing, Eun Mi stared at the device on her hand. Her thumb lingered over her contact’s list, her heart longed to call Taewoon.

“Were you talking to CELESTIAL?”

Chorong smiled at her, offering her an apple. Eun Mi tossed her phone on the bed, suddenly aware of the multiple cameras in the room.

“Yes.”

“Do they give Ienna a hard time?”

“Not at all,” Eun Mi laughed. “They just forget to clean up after themselves sometimes. Ienna is very OCD. She’ll clean everyone’s mess, and by clean I mean that she will throw everything in the trash.”

Chorong’s soft face lit up in surprise. “Will she really?”

“She will. I don’t blame the girls for wanting to rest when they get home, but my mother always said that we have to be responsible for our careers and our housework.”

“She doesn’t sound like a traditional woman,” Chorong said with a smile.

Eun Mi shook her head. “We divide the housework. We’ve always done it. When I was in school, I’d have to clean my room and wash the dishes after dinner every Tuesday and Thursday. My dad would clean the living room every Wednesday. Mom made a chore chart and if we ever wanted to trade chores, we could. It didn’t matter as long as it got done.”

“Wow! That sounds like a very democratic way of running a household.”

The memories of her past life made Eun Mi drown in a bittersweet sea. She looked around the room, seeking a distraction.

“Unnie, have you unpacked yet?”

“Not yet.”

“We should go look at our closet. This room is just for two, right? I think we’ll have more than enough room. I didn’t bring much. If it’s alright with you, we could tell the others that they can use the space we don’t?”

“That’s a great idea. I’m sure Gyuri _sunbaenim_ would appreciate it. Do you have any schedules tomorrow?”

Eun Mi plunged herself into the task of unpacking, allowing Chorong to lead the conversation and laughing along with her. They ended up playing some music, having their own little party in their closet.

Gyuri, Hyolyn, and Jimin found them eventually, joining them without asking a single question.

They weren’t her usual family, but Eun Mi felt safe enough.

* * *

DAEE tiptoed out of her bedroom, biting her lip as she closed the door behind her. Ienna was a heavy sleeper, but she wanted to take no chances. She didn’t exhale until she had locked the door to Eun Mi’s bedroom behind her.

She borrowed a simple throw blanket, wrapping herself in it as she settled against a corner of the dark room to wait for his phone call.

Around midnight, it came.

“Hello?”

“Noona.”

His voice made her skin break out in goose flesh. Her heart hammered in her chest, her stomach tied itself up in hot knots.

“Hi.”

“I miss you.”

DAEE did not want to feel this way. She did not want to believe that their relationship was illicit, but in their situation, they had no choice. At least, not now or anytime soon.

“Noona?”

“I miss you, too.”

“Can you sneak out? Hyung just went to bed.”

Eun Mi’s warnings bounced around in her mind. Logic told her to listen.

“Yes. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Same place as last time.”

“Noona?”

“What is it?”

“Be careful.”

DAEE shook her head, slipping out of the dorm with too much ease. She looked over her shoulders too many times, took the longest way to her destination, using as many backroads as she could. By the time she arrived, DAEE wondered if their relationship was worth so much trouble.

As she entered their secret place, he took her by the waist, pulling her into a kiss so passionate, so powerful, DAEE’s mind went blank.

She looked into his eyes, those eyes that were so different and yet so similar to hers.

“Noona.”

His lips crashed down on hers, consuming her.

“W-we can’t.”

He laughed, stroking her cheek. His touched burned her, lured her. “That’s what you always say.”

DAEE sighed, melting into his arms. Giving in a little couldn’t hurt.


	21. Interlude

Taewoon’s throat ached. His mouth felt dry. He reached for the water bottle he kept on his desk; it was empty.

What time was it?

The glare of his phone’s screen made him flinch. 5:00 a.m. again.

The hours of practice caught up with him. Exhaustion nearly knocked him off his feet. It was too late (too early?) to go back home.

After gulping down half a gallon of water, Taewoon collapsed on the cold, hard floor.

Just a few hours, that was all he needed. Just a few hours of sleep and he would start practicing again.

Sleep crept up on him, but just as he began to surrender, he remembered Eun Mi. She would be up soon, starting her day right as he finished his. He wondered if she would be okay, wondered if whatever had upset her could really wait as long as he had asked her to.

Feeling guilty and concerned, Taewoon composed a text message and scheduled it to send at a more decent hour.

Truthfully, he longed to see her so much it hurt. If he could bring himself to do so, he would take a day off and spend it with her. He couldn’t, however, neither could he afford it. He’d given up SPEED for this opportunity. He had to prove to them that he’d left for a purpose.

Taewoon had to succeed. He just had to.

* * *

Eun Mi’s alarm startled her awake. She rushed to silence it, worried that it might’ve woken up Chorong as well. Groaning, Chorong turned away, deep in dreamland.

For a moment, Eun Mi didn’t remember why Chorong was with her or where she was. When she caught sight of the camera mounted on the wall, she remembered. Getting up had never seemed so exhausting.

By the time she got out of the shower, dressed, and towel dried her hair, Chorong had woken up. She stumbled into the bathroom, looking dazed and with a terrible bed head.

“Good morning, unnie.”

Chorong mumbled a reply that could’ve passed for the growls of an angry cat. Eun Mi bit back her laugh.

“Oh,” Chorong pinched her cheek. “My face is so swollen. Are the cameras on?”

Eun Mi nodded. “They left them on overnight since the guys were up until late.”

“Oh, no. I need to get rid of the swelling. We should bring a humidifier into the room, the air feels a little dry.”

Reaching for a towel, Eun Mi ran it under cold water, pressing it gently against Chorong’s face.

“Are you going somewhere?” her voice came across muffled and soft through the towel.

“Mm. I have to be at the company by eight. It’s the farthest from here, so Tae Jun oppa and I are getting a head start.”

“You’re going with Tae Jun oppa?”

“Yes. We’re carpooling.”

“Look at you going green.”

Eun Mi smiled, checking Chorong’s face. “It looks like it’s gone down. Do it a few more times and it’ll be okay.”

“Eun Mi, you’re an angel.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Well, this angel is about to go wake up Tae Jun oppa. I hope he doesn’t murder me.”

“Good luck!”

* * *

 

Tae Jun heard Eun Mi’s cautious knocking. He pulled himself out of bed effortlessly, opening the door slowly. Eun Mi stood before him, bare faced and ready for a day-long practice. Her hair was still wet from her shower, but her eyes were clear behind her glasses.

“Uh, Eun Mi, good morning.”

“Good morning. Did I wake up your roommate?”

Tae Jun glanced over his shoulder at Zico. As far as he could tell, he was dead to the world. “Doesn’t look like it. What time is it?”

“A little after six.”

“You could’ve slept in. Manager Jo could’ve picked you up later.”

“You’re already headed that way. It’s better like this. Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee. With tons of caffeine.”

“You’re a mess.”

“Thanks. Give me a few minutes.”

* * *

In the kitchen, Eun Mi bumped into Sunggyu. He seemed to still be half asleep as he shuffled about looking for something.

“Good morning, _sunbaenim_.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, good morning.”

“What are you looking for?”

Sunggyu paused, scratching the back of his head. “What _am_ I looking for?”

Stifling a laugh had never proven so difficult. She found him adorable. “Coffee, maybe?”

“Coffee? Oh, yeah, that.”

“ _Sunbaenim_ , why don’t you let me do it? I’m making some for Tae Jun oppa, too.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Eun Mi expected him to move, but Sunggyu simply stood there, swaying ever so slightly. Biting her tongue, Eun Mi guided him to one of the sofas in the living room, watching as he slumped into sleep.

“Just how late did they stay up?”

Laughing under her breath, Eun Mi left him to sleep for a few more minutes.

When Tae Jun joined her a few moments later, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost. He looked over at Sunggyu, shaking his head.

“Did hyung spend the night there?”

“I don’t know. I found him wandering around here half asleep. I made him coffee but I’m not sure if he was sleep walking or not.”

“Hey, that’s something a little irresponsible to say, don’t you think?”

Eun Mi’s cheeks flushed, she stuck her tongue out at Tae Jun as she gave him his coffee. “I didn’t say it with ill intent.”

Tae Jun only laughed. She went back upstairs, handing Chorong a coffee and drinking her tea with milk.

“Are you leaving now?” Chorong asked her when she saw her gathering her things. Eun Mi pushed her hair out of her face, securing it underneath a snapback. She’d never worn snapbacks before, but today seemed as good a day as any to try it.

“Yup! Unnie, I’ll see you later. Have a good day!”

“You too!”

Eun Mi blew her a kiss. Chorong caught it with one hand.

Tae Jun waited for her in the car, a small crew ready to follow them in another. Eun Mi felt a little bad for making them work this early.

“What’s that?” Tae Jun flicked the underside of the bill, making the snapback raise a little. Eun Mi gripped it in place, frowning at him.

“An A.Borealis gave it to me, don’t mistreat it!”

Tae Jun looked at the pearlescent aqua embroidery on the black fabric, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. “A.Borealis have got you down to a T.”

“Does it look okay, though?”

He didn’t answer. Eun Mi’s eyes widened. She reached over and smacked his arm. “You’re such a jerk!”

He laughed.

Eun Mi settled back in her seat, buckling up with a pout. She used one of the cameras to check her image. Did she look weird with snapbacks?

“Eun Mi-ah, stop fussing, it looks good.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Gosh, I hate you!”

“Uh huh, love you too.”

It didn’t take anyone long to figure out who was Jerry and who was Tom in their relationship.

The ride to B.Star ENT. proved to be different than the previous times Eun Mi had been in a car. She didn’t blast music or sing; instead, she bought a newspaper and read the news aloud. She would look for words that did not sound familiar to her. After nearly a decade in Korea, there weren’t many.

She read almost everything in the newspaper, including the news about fellow celebrities. By the time they arrived, her stomach was in knots, her head felt full of information that she would rather not know.

Tae Jun gave her shoulder a pat. “Hey, it’s never as bad as it seems. Remember, the newspapers simply compile all the bad, grave, and distasteful. There’s good out there.”

“I know.” Eun Mi elbowed him, tossing the newspaper into a recycling bin. Tae Jun pressed his thumb into the keypad by the front entrance of the building. He allowed the production crew in ahead of them, carefully scanning their surroundings.

Eun Mi faced forward, placing her hand over her mic as discreetly as she could. “Anything?”

Tae Jun gave a diminutive, almost undiscernible nod. “11 o’clock.”

She peeked over her shoulder, using her hair as an excuse.

There she was again, the same girl that had been following Ryouta for the last couple of months. She sat across the street, her ankles crossed, knees pressed together, a thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Beside her, a traditional looking Japanese lunchbox waited. Her hair gleamed with oil, her face looked grimy and unwashed.

A chill ran down Eun Mi’s back as followed Tae Jun inside. “How can someone do that? Tell Ryouta to come in through the back.”

“I already did.”

“Good.”

“I’ll see you at lunch time.”

“See you then.”

* * *

CEO Choi did not expect to see Eun Mi until later in the week, so he was surprised when he found her waiting for him in his office.

“Eun Mi? What brings you here so early?”

Eun Mi, having stood when he entered, bowed to him in solemnity. CEO Choi froze, tugging at his tie as he realized that this meeting would be a stressful one.

“Sit. Tell me, what’s the matter?”

She hesitated. Inhaling deeply, she took the plunge. “Mr. Choi, there are several things I want to talk to you about.”

“Eun Mi, you know that you can speak comfortably with me. What’s troubling you?”

Too much was troubling her, too many things demanded her attention, fed from her concern. She bit her lip, clasping her hands tightly.

“Mr. Choi, as CELESTIAL’s leader, I have something to tell you.”

He leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knee. A single crease appeared between his eyebrows, a curious trait that never failed to intrigue her.

“I have no proof, it’s just a feeling that I have, but it would be wise if at least someone knows.”

“Eun Mi, you’re making me nervous. It’s unlike you to beat around the bush.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She exhale a shaky breath. “I believe that DAEE might be seeing someone. Again, I have no proof. She hasn’t said anything to any of us, either, but she’s been sneaking out of the dorm with the excuse that she’s coming over here to practice. DAEE has never been good at lying, she gets too nervous and forgets the lies and excuses she’s already used. I’m worried about her.”

“What makes you think that it might be a man that she’s seeing?”

“Mr. Choi, I don’t know how to explain it. I have this feeling. You’re the only one I’ve told this to. If I’m wrong, then I’m wrong and there is no harm done. But if something were to happen before DAEE manages to tell us, then it would be good to have a plan already in place, don’t you think?”

He nodded, agreeing with her fully. “I can’t do anything unless DAEE tells us herself, but you did well in telling me. We’ll come up with a plan in case something goes astray. For now, let’s both pretend we don’t know anything and watch over her.”

Mr. Choi had expected Eun Mi to agree and excuse herself, but instead, she agreed and took another deep breath.

“Eun Mi?”

She swallowed, feeling as if a thousand needles made their way down her throat; she cleared it. “I-I have something else to tell you. As—”

“As?”

“As CELESTIAL’s leader Eun Mi and as your niece Song Ma Ri.”

Startled, CEO Choi sat up straight. Eun Mi had never been one to merge the personal with the professional. She kept their relationship strictly employer-employee six out of the seven days of the week, only venturing into the personal when they had dinner together at home or on Sundays.

“O-oh. What is it?”

“Mr. Choi—uncle,” she braced herself, blurting the words out before she changed her mind. “I’m seeing someone!”

Mr. Choi would’ve fallen out of his chair if the shock had not rooted him to the seat. “W-what?”

“I—I’m seeing someone.”

“Please tell me it’s someone from church.”

“He isn’t.”

“Song Ma Ri!”

“Uncle,” she reached for his hand, taking it in hers firmly. “Uncle, I know it’s irresponsible of me. I know that it could put CELESTIAL at risk, especially because I’m the leader.”

“If you know then how could you go through with it?”

“Because! Because I just like him so, so, so much, uncle.”

CEO Choi turned away from her large, puppy eyes. He hated it when she did that, hated when she enlarged her eyes so much and blinked back tears with those long eyelashes. Mr. Choi was certain she’d learned it from her aunt.

He could do nothing else but harrumph in defeat, sending her a sidelong glance. “Is this the same boy Minha caught you talking to?”

A blush spread across Eun Mi’s face. “Y-yes.”

“Is he also the same one you had a secret rendezvous with at _Café Mid-moon_?”

“H-how did you know?!”

“I’m your uncle, it’s my job to know. Who is he? How long have you know him?”

“A little more than a month? Maybe two?”

“What? And you two are already dating?”

She nodded.

“Kids nowadays! Shouldn’t you two have gotten to know each other first? Be friends before anything else?”

“People act differently according to the relationship that they have with others. Just like you and I act differently here than how we are at home, the same applies to every relationship. If he and I had become friends first, we would have acted differently towards each other. I wouldn’t have gotten to know him as a man, I would’ve gotten to know him as a friend. I’ll get to know him as a man this way, and later as a friend.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mr. Choi watched her blush deepen.

“Well, that’s what I’m hoping for. I don’t know! I’m new at this!”

Sighing, he patted her hand. “So, who is he?”

“He’s a really nice man, he has really kind eyes, and a warm personality.”

“Ma Ri-ah, don’t avoid the question. Who is he?”

Eun Mi sighed, her body nearly deflating. “Woo Taewoon.”

“Who?”

A flame of annoyance lit itself in Eun Mi’s stomach. “Woo Taewoon, uncle. Woo. Tae. Woon.”

“I don’t know who that is. Are you sure he’s a celebrity?”

“Uncle!”

“Hold on, let me ask the little green box.”

“Just ask me! Woo Taewoon, former leader of SPEED under MBK Entertainment. Born on the eleventh of May of 1990. Blood type B. Height 6’0’’. He’s Catholic, and he likes to jog in the mornings when he has time. He draws really well and is interested in songwriting.”

“Look at you!” he laughed. “SPEED, huh? What about his family?”

Eun Mi sighed, giving him the details on Mr. Woo’s career and on Taewoon’s mother. She hadn’t met them yet, so she had little to say about them.

“Mm. Does he have any siblings?”

“He—I—Well…”

CEO Choi raised his eyebrows, treading carefully. “Did his siblings…pass away?”

“Oh goodness, no! God forbid!”

“Then? Do I need to ask the little green box?”

Eun Mi held her breath, closing her eyes tightly. Her uncle would not like this, he would not like this at all.

“He has a younger brother. Woo Jiho.”

“Woo Jiho.” He paused. The name rang a bell, left an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth. “Woo. Ji. Ho.”

Seeing the realization dawn on him made Eun Mi want to hide. Dark, angry shadows clouded his usually handsome and friendly face. He stood up, a storm ready to wreak havoc.

“Zico? Woo Zico?!”

“Yes.”

“You’re dating Woo Zico’s hyung?”

Now it was Eun Mi’s turn to leap to her feet, her hands on her hips, chin out, nose up. “No. I am _not_ dating Zico’s hyung. I’m dating Woo Taewoon. _Woo. Tae. Woon!_ ”

“Alright, alright, I got it.” He motioned for her to sit back down. Eun Mi sank into her seat, leaning back, her arms crossed over her chest. He hated it when she sat that way, claiming that it was disrespectful. Fully aware of this, she still did it, her childish and petty way of getting back at him for being mean to Taewoon.

CEO Choi rubbed his face. He didn’t know what to say. B.Star Ent. had no rule against their idols dating. He hadn’t requested that of any of their solo singers, actors, comedians, or L6. The director had considered banning it for the idol groups, but he’d opposed. He had expected one of the boys to be the first to come clean about dating, maybe Dae Jung or Kain; the possibility that Eun Mi and DAEE would be the first ones really took him by surprise.

Neither had shown any interest in men. Both of them worked so hard towards CELESTIAL’s debut and success that no one in the company expected them to have any desire or time to be in a relationship.

Eun Mi glanced at her uncle, pushing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. She only ever did that when she felt annoyed by him.

“What? Why are you the one that’s annoyed? I’m the CEO here, if something goes wrong, I’m the one that will have to handle it.”

His niece didn’t reply. Instead, her eyes narrowed, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, turning her head away from him in disdain.

“Hey, Song Ma Ri, you’re being rude.”

“You were the rude one. Calling Taewoon ‘Zico’s hyung’. Hmph!”

Mr. Choi didn’t quite understand why that had upset her so much, but he figured he should apologize either way. He didn’t like to see Eun Mi upset, it made him nervous. She was fragile when upset.

“I’m sorry, I’ll call him by his name. Woo Taewoon. How did you meet Mr. Woo?”

Somewhat appeased, Eun Mi sat up. “At St. Cecilia’s. That day when I couldn’t sleep and Tae Jun oppa and Su Jong-ah went looking for me. After the fiasco on that pilot episode.”

“So you’re telling me that you met Mr. Woo the day after you found out that his little brother’s behavior had caused the cancelation of that pilot episode?”

She nodded.

Mr. Choi wondered what kind of crazy, unbelievable coincidence had occurred. Maybe a sick twist of fate?

“Eun Mi, tell me truth, what exactly is going on with Block B’s Zico?”

“Uncle, even I am not sure about that.” Eun Mi exhaled a deep sigh.

“Did you two meet prior to the filming? Once during a music show, a broadcast, maybe?”

“Never before, uncle. I mean, there were several times that we were in the same building, but we never exchanged anything more that formal greetings. Block B is our senior after all, as CELESTIAL we always greeted them. Zico always seemed too preoccupied with one thing or another and never paid us much attention. I didn’t actually interact with him until that day.”

Remembering how mean, rude, and cold Zico had been made Eun Mi’s palms sweat. Realizing that he was still mean to her without reason made her stomach hurt.

“I guess he just doesn’t like me.”

“How could he not like you? He doesn’t even know you.”

“It can happen. Sometimes, you can’t like a person no matter how hard you try. You might feel like your entire being is filling up with evil poison from disliking them so much, but you cannot get rid of that feeling no matter how much you may want to. Even praying for them is a little hard.”

Mr. Choi sighed, nodding slowly. No matter how well liked Eun Mi was at the company, there had been an instance in the past where a trainee had disliked her so much she’d even gone as far as pushing Eun Mi down a flight of stairs. Thankfully, Eun Mi had been holding onto the railing, so she’d only stumbled and gotten some deep bruises with a scrape here and there. When he’d asked the trainee why she’d done it, she’d only scoffed and said, “Because I don’t like her.”

And when she’d been asked why, she had looked him dead in the eye and replied, “I just don’t.”

As unfortunate as the event had been, both Mr. Choi and Eun Mi understood that it was possible to dislike without any real reason. They didn’t, however, excuse her actions.

Either way, he understood the point Eun Mi was trying to make.

“Strange.”

“Uncle?”

“It’s strange that while one brother makes you break out in cold sweat, the other bewitched you enough into dating him. Is this Woo Taewoon really that great? Is he cooler than your favorite uncle? Huh?”

Eun Mi’s cheeks flared red. “No one is cooler than you, uncle! Well… he’s just a _little_ bit cooler than you.”

“What? You’re kidding right? Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

Eun Mi hurried out of the room, bowing to him as she went. “I’ll see you at home whenever I’m done with my schedules. Mr. Choi, please watch over DAEE and myself kindly! Thank you!”

“Hey! Song Eun Mi!”

His protests fell on a closing door. He sat there, staring after her, bewildered by her behavior.

“Ah,” he said with a small gasp. “A girl in love. She’s acting like a girl in love.”

Still, Eun Mi had been responsible. She knew that many people watched CELESTIAL closely. If someone were to find out about her or DAEE’s relationship, the company would have to step in and release an official statement. That, of course, was standard procedure. However, by letting him know ahead of time, he could prepare properly and without rushing.

“Woo Taewoon. Woo Taewoon.”

CEO Choi paced around his office, lost deep in thought. He pulled out his cell phone, staring at the image that popped up as he searched his name in the net.

“Oh? He kind of looks like a bear. Hmph. He doesn’t look cool at all.”

* * *

Leaning against the closed office door, Eun Mi exhaled a deep sigh. Her cheeks burned, her neck did too. Her conversation with her uncle wasn’t finished, she knew, but she couldn’t help feeling overly embarrassed.

For the first time since her arrival in Korea, she’d met someone. Aunt Minha celebrated it; she wasn’t so sure that her uncle felt the same.

Well, it would have to wait. She had work to do.

As she made her way down to the practice room, her phone chimed, scaring her out of her wits. The text message made her smile. She sent a thankful, loving, and warm reply. Halfway down the stairs, she paused.

Was she doing the right thing? 


	22. Tangled Ties

Zico monitored Block B Bastarz’s performances on his phone. The members well doing well, their stage presence proved strong. Even B-Bomb had managed to come across more powerful than before.

Tae Jun sat beside him, taking his phone to monitor them himself. He watched the stage in silence for a few moments before pointing at the screen. “This. This is different when performed on music shows, isn’t it? You had to censor it.”

Taking back his phone, Zico nodded. “Some phrases here and there. The essence is the same.”

Tae Jun leaned in against Zico’s shoulder to continue watching the performance. The seriousness with which he monitored Bastarz made Zico feel the need for them to do well, as if somehow Tae Jun’s opinion of them actually mattered.

“This friend,” he pointed at P.O., “has a really strong stage presence. His voice is great, it has a lot of power behind it.”

A happy smile spread across Zico’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tae Jun’s phone went off. The song was unfamiliar to Zico; he’d never heard it before, but the voice that ruptured the atmosphere around them made him breathless, tickling his memory pleasantly. He’d heard the voice before, he just couldn’t place it. Tae Jun cut the melody off before he could remember.

Tae Jun stood, pressing the phone against his ear. “What do you want now?”

He left the waiting room with a smile, teasing the person on the other end of the line. Zico stared after him, somewhat irked at the interruption. By the time that Tae Jun returned, Zico had already put his phone away.

“Girlfriend?” he teased.

Tae Jun barked a laugh. He punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Nah. It was just Eun Mi. She wanted to know what she had to buy for dinner. She said she sent a group message but that no one seemed to be home. Haven’t you been here for a few hours?”

Clearing his throat, Zico shifted in his seat. He had been “home” despite the strong urge to go to his studio and work. He had also seen her message asking if someone could send her the grocery list.

“I turned the notifications off to monitor Bastarz.”

“Is that right? Well, it doesn’t matter, she has it now.”

He said that, but Zico detected the undercurrents of his disapproval.

“Shouldn’t she have taken it with her this morning? It was her responsibility after all.”

Stretching his limbs, Tae Jun tossed his arm around Zico’s shoulder. “Zico-yah, Eun Mi is doing this for Chorong. An unexpected schedule came up and she asked Eun Mi to shop for her instead. She promised to send the list to her, but she got busy before she could. So, technically, she wasn’t responsible for tonight’s dinner.”

Feeling like he was digging his own grave in Tae Jun’s land, Zico changed subjects. “Isn’t L6 having a comeback soon?”

“Mm. I should actually be at the company, but they said they needed some footage for the show. It’ll only be the three of us for lunch.” He gave Zico a mysterious smile that made him squirm. “I’ll be counting on you. Let’s try our best not to be edited out, alright?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Zico should have known better than to agree to such a vague statement. He should have had the foresight to ask who would be joining them for lunch and what they would be doing. When he found himself in the kitchen standing beside Eun Mi, he really wished he could travel back in time and kick himself in the face.

Eun Mi sidestepped him, reaching for the large bottles of soy sauce that Chorong had asked her to get. She pressed them against her body, maneuvering her way around the large kitchen, pulling the small stepping stool with her foot, a complete natural. She managed to put the groceries away efficiently, guiding Zico with gentle instructions.

Tae Jun busied himself washing the dishes that had been left over from breakfast. Eun Mi bumped his hip with hers.

“You should’ve washed those earlier.”

“They’re being washed now.”

“What are we having for lunch?”

“No clue.”

Eun Mi frowned. She reached for the bag of rice that waited to be stored in its proper place. It took Zico a few seconds to realize that she fully intended to carry the thing. He nudged her aside, pressing his arm against her shoulder. Eun Mi hopped aside, looking up at him with a question in her eyes.

“Where do you want this?”

She stared at him for a few, stunned seconds. “Oh! Um, that goes over there.” She placed her hand on his arm absentmindedly, giving him a tiny, hesitant smile.

“Should we just order pizza?” Tae Jun draped a damp dishtowel over Eun Mi’s head.

“Hey!” She turned around, smacking him on the chest. Tae Jun flinched, doubling over as he laughed. “If we order pizza we’ll be edited out. Besides, you and I can’t eat that.”

Dusting off his hands, Zico rejoined them around the kitchen island. “Are you on a diet?”

Tae Jun pinched Eun Mi’s cheek, pulling on it slightly. “This one isn’t, at least not officially. Personally, I think she should gain some weight. Her cheeks are disappearing.”

“Ow, ow, ow!” Eun Mi took a swipe at him. Tae Jun dodged, releasing her. “You’re such a brute. I hope your voice cracks on your comeback stage.”

“Ouch, that’s mean.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. As she moved away from him, her elbow collided with the glass of water Tae Jun had set on the granite. Before Zico could even move to catch it, Eun Mi had twirled around, securing it in both her hands.

“Whew! That could’ve been bad.”

Zico stared at her, stunned. Tae Jun whistled. “That’s definitely not going to be edited out.”

Eun Mi winked at them, setting the glass on the counter. “Shall we make lunch now?”

It wasn’t long before Tae Jun and Eun Mi had complete possession of the kitchen. Zico, out of his element, stepped away. He almost made it out of the kitchen before Eun Mi’s hand took him by the elbow.

He looked down at her, eyes wide. Something dark flashed in them. Eun Mi released him quickly, carefully hiding her haste by pointing behind her. “Come, I’ll show you how to make this. It’s easy, quick to make, low in calories, and it doesn’t sacrifice the taste.”

Having agreed to Heo PD’s conditions, Zico could do nothing more than do as he was asked. The mood between them still wasn’t pleasant. The air surrounding them was suffocating. Eun Mi kept more than three feet between them at all times, approaching him only when necessary.

Tae Jun acted independently from them, gliding across the kitchen effortlessly, preparing everything with expert hands. Every now and then, he would stop by to check on Zico’s progress, offering some tiny tip or encouraging comment.

“Hyung, who taught you to cook?” Zico asked.

“This one.” Tae Jun bumped hips with Eun Mi. She took a step back, coming too close to Zico. Her eyes shot with an unknown, wild expression in his direction. She sidestepped him, avoiding him like the plague.

Somehow, that irritated him. He purposefully shifted his body so that she would have no option but to collide with him.

Their eye contact was loaded with dark, clouded thoughts and emotions.

It had been a little less than three weeks since they’d been forced into this uncomfortable environment. Zico knew that Eun Mi treaded carefully whenever he appeared. He tried to be out of Leader HQ as much as he could, but he’d gotten in trouble with Heo PD more than once for doing that.

In all honesty, he wanted to leave the show. He’d talked to Kyung about it once. To his great surprise, he had not sided with him. He’d called him childish, immature even. Only Kyung’s harsh criticisms ever seemed to make a difference to him.

He’d had no choice but to stay. If he left, he would only add fuel to the vicious rumors that had just recently died down. Even if he didn’t like Eun Mi, even if he really couldn’t bear to be with her for more than a few seconds at a time, the public had no need to know that.

However, what made him most uncomfortable of all, was how he had gradually started warming up to the girl. By attempting to avoid her, he had inadvertently started to pay attention to her. He’d caught himself smiling at her crazy antics, appreciating her voice whenever she broke into song. Once, he’d been shocked to find himself thinking that her voice would suit one of the songs he’d just completed. He’d been extra nasty to her after that.

Eun Mi, on the other hand, had quickly adapted to their surroundings. She stayed out of his way without being too obvious about it, always making plans with one leader or the other, joining Gyuri in a vocal lesson, going for a walk with Hyorin, or even playing the guitar alongside Jonghoon for hours at a time. Her disregard for him appeared to be so complete at times that he felt annoyed by it.

What annoyed Zico the most was how his opinion of her seemed to be changing. The thought that he might have indeed been wrong about her haunted him. So, rather immaturely, he converted that guilt into distaste.

He watched as Eun Mi tasted his dish. Her dark hair fell over her shoulder and she moved it out of her way with a swift toss of her head. She gave him a thumbs up, licking the spoon clean before heading over to wash the dishes that had been dirtied in the process.

Tae Jun messed with is phone. He caught Zico’s eyes and winked. Before he knew it, Bastarz’s _Zero for Conduct_ played from the tiny wireless speaker that had been placed in the room. Tae Jun took over B-Bomb’s part, even following some of the choreography. Zico laughed, ready to jump in with an overdone imitation of P.O. Eun Mi beat him to it.

She turned around to face them, delivering the lines with attitude that rivaled P.O.’s, mimicking his mannerisms with eerie accuracy. Tae Jun cheered her on, laughing when she abandoned the song.

She cleared her throat, coughing several times. “Argh! His voice is too deep! I can’t keep that up for too long.”

“You rap?” Zico asked.

“Not at all! I just imitate rappers. You know, for the ‘personal talent’ and all.”

“What do you say Zico?” Tae Jun threw his arm around his shoulders. “Is she good enough for _Show Me The Money_?”

“Hey! Don’t even joke like that! What a scary thought!”

It was, in fact, a rather scary thought for Zico as well.

* * *

The heat became unbearable. His skin felt uncomfortable under the magnified sunlight that penetrated the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling window unhindered. Zico finally sat up, shielding his eyes from the red sunset.

The house ran with absolute stillness. He looked around him, somewhat disoriented. His music player continued to play on the coffee table. Rubbing his eyes, he silenced the music.

A flicker of movement caught his attention. He squinted against the brightness of the descending sun. His legs felt stiff, his muscles resisted the sudden command to move. As he approached the vast window, he spotted a girl sitting by the pool.

She had her legs in the water, submerged almost up to her knees. In her hand, she held a thick paperback, the spine showing signs of use, corners frayed. Her loose hair twirled in the breeze. She kept her hair out of her face with one hand, lowering the book onto her lap. The receding sunlight made her skin glow.

Captivated, Zico made his way outside, unaware that this spring-like fairy was none other than Eun Mi. His shadow fell over her, startling her out of her reading. Eun Mi found him standing much too close; the strange expression on his face made her stop swinging her legs, the ripples gradually disappearing across the water’s surface.

They stared at one another, quiet and still. Eun Mi’s large eyes widened, her shoulders tensed. Zico blinked slowly, his mind crawling. He suddenly realized that what radiated in Eun Mi’s eyes was fear.

He had a brief reprise of how he’d lost his temper during Hanoi. He could see her in her flowing, baby blue dress, ribbons tied around her arm and woven intricately into her hair. She had approached him cautiously and her eyes had held the same amount of fear in them then as now.

Something akin to guilt bubbled in his stomach. The thought of pushing her into the pool crossed his mind without rhyme or reason. It held more malice than mischief. Zico refrained, clearing his throat instead.

“Isn’t it still a little too cold for that?”

Eun Mi stood. Zico watched her pat her legs dry. “Maybe just a little.”

Gathering her things, she headed inside. “I have a personal schedule. Tae Jun oppa will probably stay at L6’s dorm tonight. Hyorin and Gyuri unnie should be back in a little bit. They went to buy ice cream.”

Without knowing why, Zico followed her, hanging onto her every word. “How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours. Four or five, maybe.”

Zico stopped walking. “What? Are you serious?”

Eun Mi nodded, going up the stairs without looking back. “Yes. You fell asleep right after lunch.”

“What time is it now?”

“About seven thirty.”

“You’re going out this late?” he took the stairs two at a time, catching up with her. “Who’s going with you? Tae Jun hyung? Chorong noona?”

She stopped at the top of the stairs, looking over her shoulder. Her eyebrows drew together. Zico cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck with a finger. He thought she would scold him, tell him that he shouldn’t be nosey. She didn’t. Eun Mi only frowned slightly, turned, and made her way up to the third floor where the girls’ rooms were located.

“It’s a personal schedule. I’m going and coming on my own.”

He stopped at the foot of her door, watching her disappear inside her bedroom. Her absence brought him back to his senses. An unpleasant feeling tied itself around his stomach as he headed downstairs.

“Oh, Zico.” Gyuri spotted him as she stepped through the front door. “You’re finally awake.”

“Zico-yah!” Hyorin raised her hands over her head, the bags nearly bursting with how much ice cream they’d bought. He took them from her, shocked at how heavy they actually were.

“Noona, did you carry these all by yourself?”

“We took turns. That hill really is murder!”

Gyuri looked around. “Where’s Eun Mi?”

“She’s upstairs. She said she had a personal schedule she would be going to.”

They followed him into the kitchen. Gyuri started putting the ice cream in the freezer as Hyorin walked around enjoying a popsicle. An unexpected, loud bang made them jump.

“What was that?” Hyorin asked.

Zico peeked out into the living room, a heavy looking sports bag lay at the foot of the stairs. Hyorin stared from behind Zico, using him as a shield against the unknown.

Eun Mi flew down the steps, dressed in professional-looking workout clothes, holding a pair of running shoes in one hand. Her hair secured in a high ponytail that varied from bouncing and swaying as she moved.

“Oh, unnie, welcome home!”

“Hey, just what are you doing? Did you throw your bag from the top of the stairs? You scared us half to death!”

The smile Eun Mi flashed, so mischievous and happy, it took Zico by surprise. He had never seen her smile like that. Even her eyes, usually so clouded, sparkled with a life that was foreign to him.

“Sorry! I’m in a hurry and that thing is heavy!”

Gyuri joined them, munching on her own ice cream. She raised an eyebrow as Eun Mi scooped up the heavy looking bag onto her shoulder.

“Gyuri unnie! Hi!”

“At what time are you coming back? Is your manager driving you back?”

They followed a rushing Eun Mi all the way out to the front gate. Zico couldn’t understand how someone could move about so clumsily, slipping on her shoes as she went, and somehow still appear graceful.

“I’ll be back late. Don’t stay up waiting for me.”

Hyorin placed a hand on Eun Mi’s elbow. “Message us when you’re on your way back, okay? How are you getting back?”

“I’m taking a taxi to and from the main road.”

“Zico will go pick you up.” Gyuri said. “Message him when you’re on your way back, alright?”

Zico turned to look at Gyuri. She stared at him evenly, daring him to oppose her. He expected Eun Mi to wave her words aside, she usually did if it involved having to interact with him. This time, however, quite uncharacteristically of her, she agreed.

“Okay, sure, I’ll message him. Unnie, I’m really late! I’ll see you later!”

And just like that, Eun Mi was gone.

“Where…is she going?” Hyorin asked.

“Oh,” Gyuri said as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “From the looks of it, she’s probably going to the dojo.”

“The dojo?”

Gyuri smiled, turned to Zico, scanning him up and down. She looked at him straight in the eyes, a small, almost undiscernible smile on her lips. “Yes, the dojo. Our cute maknae has a first Dan in taekwondo, didn’t you know?”

“W-what?”

“Mm!” Hyorin pulled the popsicle out of her mouth, licking her lips excitedly. “Isn’t she working towards her second Dan?”

“ _What?_ ”

“She’s a walking weapon, our cute, little Eun Mi is.” Gyuri grinned.

They left him standing there, his mind swirling. Just who was Song Eun Mi really?

* * *

It hurt.

Taewoon tried to keep himself from grunting, but the pressure proved to be almost unbearable. He whimpered as Eun Mi pressed against his thigh.

“E-Eun Mi, s-stop.”

She smiled at him, her eyes glowing with mischief. “Just a little bit more.”

Taewoon winced as she placed her hand against his thigh. He shut his eyes. “Eun Mi.”

“You promised. You said you would do this with me.” She tapped his thigh, frowning slightly. “Don’t bend your knee. The stretch won’t work if you do.”

Taewoon straightened his leg. Eun Mi took a step forward, pushing his leg back. It burned miserably. He’d forgotten how painful hamstring stretches could be.

“For a former idol, you sure are quite stiff. How did you make it through all of SPEED’s performances?”

“Very, very painfully,” he said with a laugh. “Hey! Stop that, it hurts!”

Eun Mi eventually lowered his leg. Taewoon turned over onto his stomach, fake crying as he complained. “You’re too mean to me. It’s the first time we see each other in weeks and you have me doing these kinds of things.”

Rolling her eyes, she took his arm, attempting to force him onto his feet. “Get uuup!”

Taewoon rolled over. Taking her by surprise, he pulled her to him. Eun Mi squealed as he wrapped her in a protective hug. He nuzzled her cheek, kissing it once or twice before she managed to free herself. The scarlet blush on her face filled him with satisfaction.

Before he could tease her, a strict, fit, middle-aged man entered the small training room. He looked at them, raising a single eyebrow. Eun Mi kicked Taewoon’s thigh, urging him to get up.

They stood at attention, though Taewoon’s posture wasn’t nearly as perfect as Eun Mi’s. The teacher walked over to them, regarding Taewoon gravely.

“Ma Ri-ah, who have you brought? A friend?”

The scarlet shade deepened. Taewoon tried not to smile at how cute she looked. “Um, kind of.”

Taewoon had never heard Eun Mi speak so softly before. She kept her tone respectful, her head slightly bowed. Whoever this man was, it was obvious that she cared very much what he thought.

Without knowing what else to do, Taewoon introduced himself tentatively. “Good evening. I’m Woo Taewoon, a friend of Eun Mi’s. I’m looking forward to tonight’s lesson.”

“I am Park In Su, co-owner of this dojo and Song Ma Ri’s master. I’ll be supervising this lesson. I’m looking forward to how well you can perform. Ma Ri, where is your belt?”

Gasping, Eun Mi touched her waist, her uniform crisp under her touch. She hurried to retrieve her belt from her bag, expertly tying it in a few seconds, her back to her master. Taewoon, a lot bewildered and confused, realized that it was a black belt.

Master Park gave Eun Mi a stern look. “Fifty.”

A pained expression flittered across her face. “Yes, sir!”

She lowered her body, getting into a pushup position. Taewoon blinked, startled. He glanced at Master Park then joined Eun Mi. Neither of them said anything.

Taewoon managed to keep up with the rigorous workout that Master Park assigned. He wondered, more than once, what was so different from going to a regular gym. Eventually, they were allowed to take a two minute break for water.

“Hey, Eun Mi,” he gasped. “What’s going on?”

Eun Mi wiped her lips, handing him her water bottle. “I wasn’t wearing my belt. That was discipline.”

“What? Just—I mean—what?”

Laughing, Eun Mi reassumed her position on the mat when Master Park called her. Taewoon was instructed to watch as Eun Mi went through the various forms. He didn’t know much of Taekwondo, but he did understand that this was something Eun Mi took very seriously. The deep concentration in her eyes, the determination of her movements, it all reminded him very much of himself during practice.

Outside the dojo, Eun Mi might be a bright, mischievous girl, but at the moment, she was an athlete immersed in her sport. If he didn’t know any better, Taewoon might have believed that this was her true vocation.

“She’s working towards her second Dan. Quite impressive, isn’t it?”

“Her _second_ Dan?”

“Ma Ri is one of our best students. She learns quickly, retains the knowledge, and performs wonderfully. She has dedication, determination, discipline. If she had really wanted to, she could’ve been part of her country’s Olympic team.”

“W-what?”

“Of course, there’s no possibility of that now. The opportunity is long behind her. She stopped practicing for too long and eventually took a different path. She could’ve achieved great things in Taekwondo. Her father taught her well.”

Eun Mi shouted, her cry reverberating throughout the room, sending chills down his back. He watched her intently, forgetting that he would soon be forced onto the mat as well.

* * *

“Ow. Ow. Ow.”

“Oh, quit complaining, you big baby.”

“You just threw me across a room about fifty million times. I have the right to complain.”

“I didn’t throw you!”

Taewoon grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. The scent of sweat lingered around them, clinging to their clothes and hair. The dojo was far behind them. The night breeze cooled their skin. They were sitting on a park bench, watching the stillness of the place. Every so often, a car would drive by, drowning the sound of the swaying swings and their metal chains.

“How long have you been learning Taekwondo?”

Eun Mi leaned in against him, lacing her fingers through his. “Since I was four years old. My dad owns a dojo. He’d been running it for about a year before he brought me in.”

“Really? Did he have a lot of students?”

“He did. When he was young, he was good enough to be part of the Olympic team. Unfortunately, my grandfather passed away suddenly. He left them in a lot of debt and my dad had to get a job to help pay them. He couldn’t practice for a year, and that took its toll on him. By the time he got back, he had to start again from the basics.”

“Did he resent your grandfather?”

“Hmm. I wonder about that. Sometimes, I think he did. But it’s because he didn’t make it into the team that he met my mom. He went to college instead and eventually owned a dojo of his own.”

“Did he use his mad ninja skills to impress your mom?”

Eun Mi laughed. “Goodness, no. They couldn’t stand each other when they first met. My mom thought of him as a big-headed jock. He thought of her as a looney, bound-to-live-in-the-streets or work-at-a-bar musician. It took a while before they realized that their dislike for one another was actually uncensored, raw attraction.”

“It sounds like they had a wild youth.”

“They did.”

Taewoon could hear the warmth in her words. She had a deep love and respect for her parents. He drew her closer to him.

“So, your dad was an athlete and your mom a musician. Did she end up working at a bar like your dad expected her to?”

She elbowed him, laughing. “Of course not! She was a music teacher. _My_ music teacher. Even though my dad believed sports to be above the arts, he never once tried to stop me from learning music. He did want me to aim for the Olympics, though.”

“He had no opposition to you becoming a trainee? I heard you were street casted while on vacation.”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Taewoon shifted in his seat, leaning forward, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. “Eun Mi?”

She inhaled deeply, sighing with a smile. “By the time I auditioned, I had stopped practicing Taekwondo for two, almost three years. He didn’t oppose, but I did resume the sport my second year here. I can’t practice as often as others, but I’m making progress.”

“That’s quite remarkable. I’ll have to see you perform live someday. If Taekwondo is your second passion, I can only imagine how cool you are onstage.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer against his chest. She rested her head underneath his chin, smiling happily. They didn’t speak for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, Eun Mi squirmed her way out of his embrace.

She reached into her bag, that ridiculously heavy sports bag that she’d been carrying around, and procured a prettily wrapped package. She placed it unceremoniously on Taewoon’s hand, smiling happily.

“What is this?” He stared at it then looked up to meet her eyes.

Eun Mi gave his shoulder a shy nudge. “I know you’ll be busy that day with the audition and everything, so I figured you could have this today.”

He continued to look at her blankly, a tiny furrow on his brow. Eun Mi momentarily panicked. Maybe the date his company had written on his profile had been wrong.

“I-isn’t your birthday on the eleventh?”

“Ah.” Taewoon’s jaw slackened, his lips parted, then he seemed to understand. “Aah!”

Eun Mi exhaled. Taewoon placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, trapping her against him as he opened the little box.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I did.”

“Yeah, you kind of did.”

She elbowed him, helping him with the more stubborn pieces of the wrapping paper. She had taken a detour on her way to the dojo to pick this up from home, scared that someone would find it at either the dorm or HQ. Uncle Min Soo had given her a _look_ as she’d dashed out the door.

The watch was large, black, sleek, and expensive. Taewoon had no need to know that last bit, but the store had wrapped it in its original box, revealing the brand as well as slipping in a little sheet with details on the warranty.

He stared at it, aghast. Eun Mi brushed it away, taking it from him and placing it around his wrist. On her, the watch looked monstrously huge. On him, it looked ridiculously sexy. Eun Mi smiled, pleased with herself.

“I have great taste! Happy early birthday!”

Taewoon grinned, hugging her tightly. He kissed the top of her head, lacing his fingers with hers. Suddenly, he remembered they were both celebrities sitting out in the open with nothing to disguise their identities.

He reached into his pocket for his mask and placed it around Eun Mi’s face. She blinked at him, tempted to remove it.

“I doubt anyone will recognize us.”

“How can you be sure? Let’s keep this on just in case. You’re a celebrity after all.”

“This was the neighborhood I used to live in when I first arrived. You see that building over there?” She pointed to a plain looking apartment complex. “We used to live on the sixth floor.”

Taewoon stared at it for a while. “Hey, that building looks kind of familiar…Actually, this entire neighborhood does now that I think about it.”

“It’s a quiet neighborhood. There was a time when it got a little hectic, but it reverted to its original state after Block B changed dorms.”

“Ah! That’s right! Their first dorm after debut was in that building!”

“Mm. Once we found out that they lived on the floor below us, we moved.”

“They were right below you?”

“Not right, right below us. They were in the east wing of the building, we were further to the west. Still, I had my own debut coming up and we couldn’t risk any sort of misunderstandings. It’s ridiculous how many stalkers they had even as rookies.”

“I remember. Jiho said one of them in particular kept coming back.” Taewoon thought for a moment, then scanned their surroundings wearily. “Eun Mi-ah, maybe you should head home.”

Eun Mi cuddled closer. “Why? You think there might be someone watching us?”

“It’s getting late. C’mon, I’ll catch a cab for you.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for the watch.”

She let him take her hand, leading her towards the main road with her bag slung across his shoulder. Eun Mi wanted to stay with him, help him gain strength for the audition that loomed ahead. She wanted to say something encouraging, something that would lift his spirits, ease his heart and worry. If only she knew what words could give him the strength he needed and desired, Eun Mi would utter them with no hesitation.

Those words, if they existed, eluded her. All she could do was pray for the best.

“Let me know when you get home,” Taewoon said as he guided her into the backseat of the cab.

Eun Mi caught his hand, gripping it tightly. “Taewoon-ah.”

He stopped moving, heat swirling inside his chest. “Yes?”

“Good luck.”

He smiled gratefully at her, sneaking in a final forehead kiss before closing the door. As she watched him fade away, Eun Mi found herself wishing that he had not chosen this path. If he had focused his life and efforts in a career that wasn’t so difficult, if his dream had consisted of something simpler, maybe his eyes would be cleared of that haunting shadow she often found in them.

Settling down on the seat, Eun Mi leaned her head against the window, a strange aftertaste in her mouth.

* * *

Zico waited for Eun Mi. Gyuri and Hyorin had gone to bed early after giving each other facials. He was left waiting alone for their roommate. He hadn’t expected her to message him, but she’d proven to be an obedient maknae and had contacted him as she’d promised. Now, with most of the crew gone for the night, Zico had ventured out into the chilled streets to wait for her.

It had taken him twenty minutes to reach the main road. Cabs could make it up the hill to HQ, but the production crew preferred that they didn’t. Fans could sometimes act a little crazy, keeping the cab traffic around them to a minimum allowed them to provide them with better security. At least, that’s what they claimed.

He thought about calling Eun Mi to ask where she was when a cab pulled up just ahead. Moments later, Eun Mi stood on the sidewalk, carefully closing the door. She waved after the driver.

“You’re late,” Zico said as a form of stiff greeting.

“I know,” Eun Mi replied.

They started the trek back home. Eun Mi walked on the inner side of the sidewalk, the one furthest away from the street, her bag between them. She noticed that no cameras were following them.

“Did the crew go home?”

“Yeah. Since we have a mission tomorrow, they decided to go home and rest. The cameras at home are still on, though. They’re scheduled to turn off around three in the morning.”

Eun Mi checked the time. “That’s still a ways off.”

Before he knew what she was doing, Eun Mi had made a bee line towards the convenience store. He rushed after her, greeting the startled employee as he burst through the door.

“Eun Mi?” he hissed. “Hey! Song Eun Mi!”

“Hey, corn head, over here!” Eun Mi waved him over to the refrigerated section of the store. “Do you want some triangular kimbap? I’m really hungry right now.”

She took two for herself and offered him the second pair. Without waiting for him to accept or decline, she pushed them against his chest and headed over to grab a cold drink. Instead of water, she took a large bottle of Pepsi.

“Sometimes, my American side comes out and I need this stuff. Do you want something else? No? Fine, don’t cry about it later.”

Caught up in her swirling hurricane behavior, Zico found himself walking out of the convenience store with kimbap. Eun Mi settled on the table furthest from the street, dropping her bag on the floor between them, sitting with her back to the building. Zico could do nothing more than sit down beside her.

He watched as she unwrapped her kimbap expertly, biting into it with immense delight. She munched on it for a while before grabbing her drink. Unable to untwist the cap, she handed it to Zico. He stared at it for a moment before finally opening it up for her.

“Thanks.” She took a large gulp from it, sighing as she leaned back in her chair. Eventually, he joined in on the late-night snacking. Neither of them said anything when he reached for her drink.

“Hey, Zico?”

“Hmm?”

“Woo Taewoon, your brother, he’ll be auditioning for the show, won’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“How do those auditions work? Is it difficult?”

“If I said the first round was the easiest, I’d be lying. No audition is easy. After the audition, the rounds just continuously get harder and harder. We all have very high expectations.”

Zico expected her to ask more about the program’s layout. Instead, she took him by surprise by asking, “You won’t favor him, right?”

“What?”

“You won’t favor Woo Taewoon, right? You’ll let him try this out all on his own?”

He scowled fiercely. “Do you think I would? Hyung decided to do this on his own. I’m a professional. I do not favor one party over the other. If he can hold his own, good. If he can’t, then that’s his problem. He left SPEED for this.”

Yes, Taewoon had left SPEED for his chance to pursue a career as a rapper. He had spent days agonizing over his future, only making up his mind after a long inner struggle. For Zico to grant him any sort of handicap would be insulting. That Eun Mi would even think that he would made her dislike her even more.

“Good.”

Zico faltered. “What?”

“I said ‘Good.’ Taewoon doesn’t need any handicaps and I’m grateful that you aren’t giving them to him. I’ll be counting on you to let me know how he performs.”

“Wait, what? Why should I tell you?”

Eun Mi smiled, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. “Because I won’t be watching the show. Su Jongie warned me of their evil editing. I’m too scared to watch it.”

She took their trash, crumpled it, and disposed of it properly. Zico took one last swing of Pepsi before handing her the rest to finish. She tossed it into the recycle bin effortlessly. She stirred them in the direction of HQ.

“Wasn’t Su Jong active underground before?”

“Mm. He was doing that for about a year before he lost interest.”

“Lost interest?” The statement nearly offended him.

“Mm. Su Jongie is an apprentice of many trades and a master of none. From what the rap coaches at the company say, he’s near being a prodigy, but he lacks interest. He’s jumped around since I’ve known him. Just recently, it seems like he’s settling down with directing. Although he does sometimes come and composes with us. It seems that he likes producing more than composing.”

“You compose?”

“I try. Mostly, I help Kain out with lyrics. I guess we’re good enough since we’ve managed to sneak in a song or two in each of L6’s albums.”

“Oh? Do you guys have a name?”

“ _Siren Song_.”

Zico paused at the English. He caught Eun Mi’s lip quirk. He knew what song was, but not the first word. He felt slightly stupid; his English skills weren’t even at a steady conversational level.

“Siren Song,” Eun Mi repeated. “Kain chose the name. He says he wants listeners to be enthralled by our music.” She laughed softly, a breathy sound. “Personally, I think he’s a little greedy.”

Zico couldn’t help but laugh. “I think he felt that stab just now.”

“I sure hope he did.”

Suddenly, without warning, it started to rain. The cold raindrops gave them pause. Zico shielded his eyes, looking up at the late night sky. Eun Mi untied her hoodie from around her waist, slipping into it as quickly as she could.

“Let’s head back to the convenience store. They have umbrellas.”

Eun Mi shook her head. “It’ll take longer. We’re almost home. We can just run.”

“What?” Without really paying attention, Zico took Eun Mi’s offered bag. He slung it across his body, wondering just what she kept in there that made it so heavy. “The convenience store is just two blocks from here. It’ll be easier to just—”

“Last one home buys chimek!”

He watched as she took off running. She hadn’t gone more than a few yards before she turned right around, took him by the wrist and pulled him along.

“Are you crazy?” he shouted over the downpour but kept running. He could’ve sworn that she laughed heartily, but if she did, the rain drowned it out.

Her ponytail bounced with her steps, Zico’s hair clung to his forehead, his neck. By the time they arrived at HQ, they were both soaked through and through. Eun Mi caught a glimpse of his startled face, his eyes wide with disbelief. Laughing, she gave his abdomen a playful pat.

“Chimek’s on you.”

Zico watched her disappear inside then followed in after her.

“Hey! Are you crazy! We just ate!”


	23. Come Back

[ **A/N** : Oh, what is this? An actual author's note before the chapter? What?! Anyway, I'm just stopping by to tell you guys that the events happening in this chapter concerning SPEED were inspired by a backstage interview. You can find the full interview [here](https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2vc506_eng-sub-150619-mcd-backstage-speed-cut_music?start=352). I'm not sure how to cite this. I paraphrased alot for this to work, but the subtitles are credited to [kongbini](https://www.dailymotion.com/kongbini). Go check out the video! Also, what doesn't happen on the video is, of course, all made up. Thanks for sticking with BWB this far!]

Time swept Eun Mi up in its wild current, an urgent river furiously trying to reach the sea. L6 had their comeback showcase on the 14th and Eun Mi, as the master of ceremonies, had to place Taewoon at the back of her mind.

Filming for _Follow the Leader_ took up most of her daily life, along with her other schedules, lessons, practices, and preparations for a comeback. Not to mention that she had blocked the weekend following L6’s comeback to attend a very important event: SHINee World IV in Seoul.

Seeing SHINee back on a stage after a year and seven months filled her heart with relief, hope, happiness, and immense pride. She’d managed to obtain tickets legitimately, before the scalpers—or those that bought tickets to sell them at higher prices—had managed to take all of them. Manager Jo had suggested that one of the younger managers accompany her just in case, but Eun Mi had flat out rejected that notion. SHINee World, her sanctuary after St. Cecilia’s, belonged only to her and her fellow Shawols.

She met up with her old SHINee World friends, the same ones she used to cheer at music shows with, and enjoyed the concert to the fullest. Outside, she had no reserves over buying official merchandise. She had been saving up a year and seven months to do so!

She cried when Jonghyun cried, three days in a row. Her soul shattered upon seeing Onew, their beloved dubu leader Onew, choking on his tears. It had been beautiful, heartwarming, and Eun Mi had left the arena walking on clouds. Listening to their live broadcast on _Blue Night_ after the concert made it all the more surreal.

She did all she could to support them. Streaming their album, voting on music shows, and, when it was finally released, viewing their MV over and over. Minha had long ago learned to leave her niece alone during the first few weeks of SHINee’s return. In fact, everyone at B.Star ENT. had left her well enough alone.

Unable to attend their 7th Anniversary celebration, Eun Mi and her Shawol friends had bought a cake. They’d felt it was destiny supporting SHINee when she discovered that the candles they sold matched their official color.

Taewoon had managed to call her during one such time when her voice had not yet returned to normal from so much screaming.

“Eun Mi-ah, are you sick? What’s the matter?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong! I’m just having the best week of my life right now!”

Taewoon had managed to hear her friends singing _View_ at the top of their lungs, practicing their fan chant for the oncoming comeback stage. For a moment, he’d been unable to place the tune, mistaking it for L6’s latest release. It wasn’t until the following day that he’d realized who the song really belonged to.

He had known Eun Mi to be a fangirl, he just had not been aware of what group. Now that she’d given herself away, Taewoon could find no other group that could so evenly match Eun Mi’s personality: bright and mischievous. It fit.

Her excitement over SHINee renewed his strength, doubled his efforts. In fact, her love for them was so refreshing that Taewoon felt he could do anything. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to try his best so that Eun Mi could be as proud of him as she was of SHINee.

Well, maybe he was hoping for the impossible. No one could match up to SHINee in Eun Mi’s mind. Not even her kind, amazing boyfriend.

* * *

Stepping back inside Mnet’s building, engulfed in the atmosphere that was the music industry and M!Countdown, CELESTIAL grew excited. Chae and ReNA skipped ahead, holding hands and dramatically singing a medley of L6’s new songs. DAEE walked behind them, worried that the bags full of food they were carrying would end up on the ground. Ienna walked beside Eun Mi, looking around eagerly. Manager Jo and Na Na unnie, another of their managers, walked behind them.

“Unnie! Unnie!” she linked her arm through hers. “Unnie, we’re almost back, aren’t we? We’ll be able to stand on stage soon, right?”

Eun Mi smiled up at the charming maknae, nodding steadily. The plans for CELESTIAL placed them at a midsummer comeback, a few weeks after L6’s last promotion and their repackage release. Already there were rumors of a Red Velvet and B.A.P comeback around the same time. It made Eun Mi a little anxious, knowing that they would be up against such formidable groups.

Whatever anxiety had begun to grow at the pit of her stomach, however, was soon dispelled by the cheerful shouts that greeted the girls—or rather, the large bags of food they carried with them.

ReNA held up her arm. “We bumped into AMORES and they sent up their love!”

Dae Jung leapt from his spot on one of the old, worn sofas, throwing his arms up in reply, taking the bags from her. He turned away without so much as a word of greeting.

“You beast.”

The only response she received was that of Dae Jung throwing a sandwich over his shoulder. She caught it, but not without a startled yelp. He ripped the packaging of one, stuck the sub in his mouth, and walked around handing out meals while chewing.

“One would think that you’re all starved,” DAEE said, handing Ryouta his portion of the meal. He smiled up at her, his dark eyes gleaming with merriment. Noticing how his eyeliner had smudged, DAEE used her pinky finger to clean it up. Ryouta sat immobile, his hands clasped around the sandwich and his unwavering eyes on DAEE.

Tae Jun watched from across the room, his arms folded over his chest, chin tucked in. Eun Mi stood beside him, holding his food in both her hands. She stared at him for a moment then followed his gaze.

“Ah,” she said.

“Ah,” he replied.

He took the food AMORES had so carefully, thoughtfully prepared and arranged it prettily on a table. Eun Mi took this opportunity to power up the camera that Heo PD had entrusted her with. She quietly filmed Tae Jun posting his gratitude on social media.

“Oppa, what are you doing?”

Tae Jun looked up, startled by the question, even more shocked by the presence of a camera that had not been thirty seconds before. He scanned it momentarily, his eyes settling dead center on the lens.

“What is this? _Follow the Leader_?”

“Oh! Intense eye contact! You look handsome with your makeup all done.”

“What are you talking about? I always look handsome.”

Appearing out of nowhere, Su Jong jumped onto Tae Jun’s back, munching on what Eun Mi assumed to be the rest of the bitten apple he held in his hand. His hair, an array of cobalt, sapphire, navy, and royal blue defied gravity in a shocking way.

“Hyung, what are you doing?”

Tae Jun gave him a sidelong glance, the internal debate apparent in his raging eyes. Eun Mi zoomed in on Su Jong, saving his life.

“Who are you? What are you? Do your parents know that you dye your hair in crazy colors and torture your scalp?”

Su Jong looked at her, stunned by her sudden attack. He slid off Tae Jun’s back, hiding behind his leader. Eun Mi chased him down.

“What kind of example to society are you? Huh? Huh?”

“A really good one!” Su Jong dodged the camera, sidestepping Eun Mi. She whirled around only to have him pluck the camera right out of her hands. He inspected it carefully, then glanced around the room, taking in the lighting and the people within.

Tae Jun lowered himself onto an empty seat, carefully unwrapping the sandwich. Once Su Jong and Eun Mi went at it nothing could or would stop them.

“What’s your mission?” Su Jong asked, aiming the camera at her.

Eun Mi looked past the device at him, her eyes sparkling. “I have to meet with Tae Jun oppa, Sunggyu and Gyuri _sunbaenim_.”

“You’re not meeting with Taeha?”

“Taeha? Oh Taeha?” Realization slowly dawned on her. “SPEED’s Taeha? Oh my gosh, SPEED had their comeback! Are they here today?”

“They’re doing a camera rehearsal now. I saw them on our way up here,” Ienna said from across the room. “They’re all dressed in uniforms.”

Eun Mi jumped up and down, her hands pressed against her lips. Su Jong, expertly handling the camera, managed to get both leaders in a single shot; Tae Jun could be seen rolling his eyes at her.

“Isn’t this meant to be a visit for L6?”

“That can happen later. We already know you guys.”

“Ouch!” Dae Jung grimaced, placing his hand against his heart. “That hurts, noona!”

“Deal with it!”

Manager Jo sighed, offering Eun Mi the backpack she searched for so frantically. He’d known she would act this way and had come prepared. She greedily reached for it, diving into it and procuring SPEED’s latest album, _What U_.

“Su Jongie, follow me!”

“Yes, noona!”

Eun Mi paused long enough to smack his stomach, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. Su Jong laughed, following her, the camera always steady.

“I can leave the filming to you, right?”

“Of course. What do you take me for?”

She shot him a smile over her shoulder, the light bounce in her step rippling her hair. Su Jong loved the way the shot was captured. The academy’s lectures seemed to be paying off, but he had a feeling it was due more to his natural skill and Eun Mi’s impeccable sense and timing.

* * *

Taeha had been expecting the ambush but he still did not see it coming. After their first rehearsal, he found himself surrounded by a handful a cameras, all angling to capture the moment of their return on stage for their loyal fans. He felt a little overwhelmed, a little unsure, and a whole lot nervous.

SPEED’s hiatus had been long, over a year. It would be a lie to say that the long breaks weren’t a little more than disheartening, a statement to how little the company thought of their potential to become popular. Still, Taeha felt grateful that they had managed to make another appearance as SPEED before the company gave up on them, and, even more important, before the members gave up on the company.

Taewoon’s departure had created ripples that spread across the murky waters that was SPEED’s existence. They had managed one more comeback and that somehow came across more as a relief than an accomplishment. Every member felt it. Even Ki-O, the latest addition to their shaky identity, felt SPEED’s unstable life force. The members all regarded their situation with weary hearts.

“Taeha! Tae-yah!”

Eun Mi’s flowery voice startled the preoccupied idol out of his heavy thoughts. Before he could brace himself, Eun Mi lurched herself at him, hugging him tightly. Worried that such an American greeting had been caught on film, Taeha looked around nervously.

“Congratulations on your comeback!”

“Congrats!”

Taeha looked over Eun Mi’s head at Su Jong, nearly choking at the crazy array of blue atop his head. Seeing him dressed in simple black slacks and a white shirt told Taeha that L6 would be pre-recording one of their slower, heart-wrenching songs before their main performance. SPEED had never gotten to the point where they were given two performances within the same music program. The sting he felt was more desperation than envy.

“Oh, Su Jong-ah, Eun Mi-ah,” he paused, awkwardly, “thank you.”

Eun Mi hopped before him, her excitement overflowing. “Ooh, look at you! You always did look great with blond hair.”

A coordi-noona interrupted them, pressing napkins against his drenched forehead. Eun Mi took the paper fan from her hand and began fanning him. Su Jong raised a previously hidden camera, smiling at Taeha.

“W-what’s going on?”

“Hmm? Oh, that! It’s for that reality program I’m in, _Follow the Leader_. Su Jong is today’s PD.”

“Eun Mi you look like a coordi-noona.”

She grinned, opened her mouth to say something, but ended up bowing instead when she saw Yuhwan approaching. He looked at her curiously before raising his eyebrows at Taeha; he only shrugged in response.

“Hyung, hello,” Su Jong said in a sing-song voice.

Yuhwan spread his arms wide, puckering his lips. Su Jong lowered the camera, allowing Yuhwan to embrace him and place a kiss on his cheek. This drew the attention of the other members.

“Oh! Song Eun Mi noona!” Jongkook shouted across the room. “Noona!”

Jungwoo brushed his pinkish blond hair away from his eyes, peering at her with curious eyes. His face looked longer, different. It took her a moment to realize that he had lost weight; his missing cheeks made his face somewhat unfamiliar to her. Eun Mi felt sure that he knew something from the way in which he looked at her, his head listed slightly, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Yuhwan _sunbae_ ,” Eun Mi avoided Jungwoo by tugging on Yuhwan’s shirt. “Can you gather the members?”

“Oppa? Did she just call me oppa?” Yuhwan asked no one in particular.

“No, she called you _sunbae_ ,” Taeha corrected softly.

“Eun Mi-ah, when will you call me oppa? Hmm? Haven’t we known each other for years?”

Eun Mi smiled, a little uncomfortable. She had been in Korea for years, but calling older men oppa had never come naturally to her the same way calling older girls unnie did. Tae Jun was the only one, and that was only because he ignored her until she addressed him thus.

To redirect his attention, Eun Mi raised their album, placing it beside her cheek. “Ta-dah! _Sunbae_ , can I have your autograph?”

Elated, Yuhwan soon dedicated a long message to her, expertly marking one of his photographs with his expressive signature. Eventually, Eun Mi managed to get all of SPEED’s autographs, even Ki-O, whom she was not at all familiar or comfortable with, graciously signed his part of the album.

To commemorate their comeback, both Su Jong and Eun Mi took a photograph that they would post on their social media. Neither of them had issues with promoting SPEED instead of their own groups, much to the annoyance of their managers.

In between their rehearsals, Eun Mi heard them talking about Taewoon. His absence had been noticed, definitely, especially in how the crew continued asking the members how their lives had changed since he’d left.

Eun Mi strained her ears to hear what Sungmin and Yuhwan had to say. At first, Yuhwan joked saying that he was at home eating watermelon, but then the statements became more serious, indicating how they both hoped that Taewoon’s participation in _Show Me The Money_ would benefit him and, as consequence, SPEED.

“He needs to become more popular,” Sungmin said, “so that he can pull us along with him.”

So much weighed on Taewoon. Even as a former leader, the members still relied on him. Sungmin joked that he could also end up forgetting about them in his newfound fame, but Eun Mi highly doubted that could take the sting off his previous words. She was glad Taewoon had not been around to hear them. She also prayed that Sungmin’s part of the interview would not air as a backstage segment.

The solemnity of the statement, however, was destroyed when Sungmin revealed that Taewoon spent all his time at their dorm. Jungwoo quickly added that it was annoying to have him around so much.

“The dorm is tidier now! I’ve lead a healthier life since he left! So, I thought to myself, am I getting healthier because he left?”

Just then, SPEED was called back onstage for another rehearsal. Sungmin bowed to the PD, smiling at Eun Mi as he bolted up on stage.

“Careful!” she cried after him, worried that their shoes might betray them. “SPEED, fighting!”

Su Jong filmed Yuhwan climbing onstage before returning the camera’s focus to Eun Mi. She smiled, reaching for it.

“We need to save some of the battery for Sunggyu and Gyuri _sunbaenim_ as well.”

He smiled, throwing his arm around her the way he always did. They monitored SPEED together, both grimacing when Jongkook nearly lost his balance, holding their breath while Yuhwan threw and twisted his body in dangerous acrobatics.

They had to record a few more times. Su Jong, called away to L6’s backstage interview, said his goodbyes. Patting Taeha on the back, he promised to call him later, suggesting something that included spicy rice cakes and beer, maybe soju.

“How much longer will you stick around?” Jungwoo’s voice coming from behind her made Eun Mi jump. She pressed a hand to her rattled heart, looking over her shoulder at him with wounded accusation.

“ _Sunbae_! Do you want to give me a heart attack?”

Jungwoo smiled. “I’m sure Taewoon would kill me if I did.”

“W-what?”

“SPEED, get ready to perform!”

The sound of DEEPS entering the auditorium, their excited chatter reaching the members. The grins that spread across their faces warmed Eun Mi’s heart. She wished nothing but the best for them.

Eun Mi wasn’t the kind of girl that prayed for fame. She knew that fame came and went; its fleeting nature leaving nothing but a tragic wreckage behind it in the worst of cases and bittersweet experiences at best. And yet, she couldn’t help herself. Silently, watching them rush onto the brightly lit stage to greet their beloved DEEPS, Eun Mi said a prayer.

It was a tiny prayer, the kind that existed only briefly. Her mother had always said those prayers didn’t leave an impression on the mind but where deeply carried by the soul. So, Eun Mi’s soul prayed for the wellbeing of SPEED as a group and for all its members, current and former.

* * *

Dark hair swept back, plain black tee, white hoodie. That is how Taewoon made his entrance into the broadcasting building. The DEEPS that had been unable to make it into the auditorium shouted their joy. He stopped briefly to greet them.

“Have you guys been well?”

“Yes!” They said collectively.

“Did you already have lunch?”

“Yes!”

“Oppa, how about you? Have you eaten yet?”

Taewoon smiled his lopsided smile. “Yes. You guys will continue to love SPEED even though I’m no longer there?”

“We love it more now that you’re gone,” said a particularly cheeky fan.

He clutched at his chest, gasping as if he’d been mortally wounded. The fan laughed, offering him the cold drink she held.

“Oppa, work hard on _Show Me The Money_. Don’t let us down!”

She looked up at him, eyes nearly hidden by her overgrown bangs, obscured by thick glasses. It was then that Taewoon recognized her. She’d been the same fan he’d sent home on a taxi weeks before.

He accepted her hastily prepared gift, then handed them all a large bill. “Go get yourselves some coffee.”

“Are you bribing us to follow you instead of SPEED?”

“What’s your name?”

“Eun Kyung. Nam Eun Kyung.”

“Eun Kyung-ah, if you follow me, you follow SPEED.” Taewoon winked.

DEEPS released a collective squeal, muttering amongst themselves. A deep, red tint spread across Nam Eun Kyung’s cheeks.

“Our DEEPS, stay safe and healthy, okay?”

“Yes, oppa!”

Taewoon waved over his head as he walked away, forever charmed by how darling SPEED’s fans were. He found himself laughing at Eun Kyung’s remarks, somehow charmed by her bright and courageous personality.

Eun Mi’s mischievous smile flashed across his mind. A subtle pain crawled across his chest. Taewoon missed her. Very much.

He had tried calling her before leaving his place, but she had not answered. Figuring that she was busy with a schedule of her own, he’d sent her a message instead. A message she had not yet replied to or even seen.

Taewoon knew he would have to see her soon. Gradually, it had become harder and harder to focus. Her smile, her jokes, her never-ending song kept interrupting his thoughts, tripping him up during practices.

His love battery was running dangerously low.

He stopped. Dead in his tracks.

His love battery? Really, just how much more was Eun Mi going to—to what? Plague his thoughts? Fill his life with trot songs? Make him miss her even more?

Shaking his head, longing for Eun Mi’s presence beside him, Taewoon made his way into SPEED’s assigned area.

Backstage nearly blindsided him. He’d been so immersed thinking about Eun Mi that he had briefly forgotten how hectic the life of a promoting idol group could be.

“Oh! Hyung!” Jongkook spotted him first. With napkins pressed to his forehead and stylists flocking and fanning him, he waved. The PD that had been interviewing him turned. Before he knew it, Taewoon was ambushed.

Taeha saw their former leader over Eun Mi’s head. “Oh, it’s Taewoon hyung.”

Whirling around, Eun Mi’s eyes frantically searched for Taewoon. Her heart pounded furiously. She stood on her toes, craning her neck every which way.

Jungwoo gave Taeha a push forward. “Go stand by Taewoon. I think they’ll interview him.”

Though a little confused by the unexpected command, Taeha obeyed his hyung’s words. Leaving Eun Mi behind with him.

“If you keep smiling, everyone will find out,” Jungwoo cautioned. He stood in Eun Mi’s line of sight, his frame obscuring her view of Taewoon. Her eyes flared. “Pretend you’re talking to me. This way you can at least keep it under wraps for a while longer.”

Blushing, Eun Mi finally acknowledged that Jungwoo knew. Perhaps, he knew more than what he let on. Either way, she had to thank him for protecting them.

“Thank you.”

Jungwoo smiled, watching her watch Taewoon.

Taeha stood beside him. The interview had started without warning, an array of statements merging with questions. It took him a few seconds, but Taewoon eventually found his footing, his mind constructing broadcast appropriate replies, his body carrying out idol-image movements. Sungmin joined them.

“According to Sungmin, the dorm became cleaner since you left.”

“There is no way. No way. It’s still the same.”

“No!” Sungmin protested. “It’s definitely cleaner! Much cleaner!”

“The members also said that after you left, they’ve become healthier.”

Taewoon released a cackling laugh, not too shocked at their mercilessness. Taeha doubled over, hearing this for the first time, he could not believe the others had been so hilariously mean.

“There’s absolutely no way!”

“Did you say that?” Taeha knew Sungmin had been the culprit, there was just no other way anyone else would’ve been.

Their maknae laughed, placing a hand on Taeha’s shoulder while watching Taewoon protest against his claims. As soon as he finished with one outrageous statement, another was brought to his attention.

“Sungmin says that you always wake him up whenever he’s trying to sleep.”

Just how many things did Sungmin have to say? Taewoon glanced at him. Beyond Sungmin, half hidden by Jungwoo, was Eun Mi. Shocked, Taewoon’s careful idol attitude stumbled. He had not expected to see her, could not have even imagined that she would have been with SPEED.

Her lips were pressed together in a strange grimace. Taewoon knew just how much she wanted to laugh from the pained, glittering look in her eyes. Out of all times to bring out the skeletons from the closet, did Sungmin have to choose today of all days?

“Really, you should all be nicer to me,” he managed to say once he recovered.

“Oh, right!” Taeha jumped in. “When Taewoon hyung was there, our dorm was cleaner and healthier.”

“Exactly.”

“He was always cleaning. Energetically! Our dorm was a happier place then.”

Taewoon’s head snapped around to look at him. “Now what are you saying?”

Taeha sputtered a laugh. “Or maybe not?”

That was all it took for Eun Mi to burst out laughing. Taewoon turned away, looking desperately for a hole to crawl under.

Eventually, the PD asked him to give his final words of encouragement.

“Are you part of the broadcast? If you’re not part of the staff then you’re not authorized to be here.”

Taewoon, already riled from before, laughed Yuhwan’s words away while halting a threat that was nearly caught on camera. Yuhwan saw the tattletale signs of danger in Taewoon’s playful smile and backed off.

“Are the former and current leaders in bad terms with each other?”

“No,” Taewoon started.

“We don’t even like to interact with one another.”

“That’s right. We don’t even speak.”

“I don’t want to even look at him.”

In saying this, Yuhwan’s hand brushed Taewoon’s. Sizing the opportunity, Taewoon ended the argument with one swift demand.

“Please, don’t touch my skin. Don’t touch me.”

Sungmin laughed, Taeha smiled, and Yuhwan was left to stare incredulously at the camera. Jungwoo chuckled, placing a hand on the small of Eun Mi’s back, he walked her over to where Jongkook.

“Stay here until they call us onstage.”

Eun Mi had never before felt the urge to call anyone “Oppa” until now. The gentle manner in which he guided, watched out for, and talked to her made her feel safe, as if she could depend on him. Truly grateful, Eun Mi gifted him one of her broadest, prettiest smiles.

Jungwoo, taken aback by her smile, blinked several times before returning the gesture. He gave her head a small pat. He felt as if he were rewarding a small animal. He couldn’t quite decide if she reminded him more of a fox or a baby owl. Either way, he found her cute enough to consider her a _dongsaeng_.

Called onstage sooner than expected, Jungwoo had no opportunity to speak to Taewoon. He caught only a glimpse of him approaching Eun Mi. Their eyes met briefly. Jungwoo waved flirtingly at him, laughing at his disgusted expression.

“Did he say something to you?” Taewoon asked.

“Well, hello, to you, too!”

Smiling, Taewoon opted to push their conversation to a later time and place. _What U_ blared loudly around them, SPEED’s singing mingled with DEEPS’ cheers, creating an excited cacophony.

Eun Mi cheered as well. She stood close enough to him that the back of their hands brushed. She stood on her toes, trying to see better; Taewoon leaned in, slightly, supporting her discreetly.

Wasn’t that the nature of their relationship, secret support, unsaid words, hidden truths in a world where the spotlight always remained on them? A prickling pain, a dangerous thought, began to take shape inside Taewoon’s mind; a thought that contained Eun Mi, Ji Ho, and himself. If he allowed it to form, to grow, his chance encounter with her would be ruined, dampened by a heavy truth.

Was it a truth? A rumor? Maybe a morphed reality? Whatever it was, Taewoon pushed it away, out of his consciousness, deep into the recesses of his mind.

* * *

“What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are _you_ doing here?”

“I came to show them my support.”

“So did I.”

“I’m their former leader.”

“And your point is?”

Taewoon’s lopsided grin appeared right on cue. The elevator dinged, its door sliding open without ceremony. He placed a hand on it to prevent it from closing too soon, allowing Eun Mi to get on first. He followed right behind.

“Where are you headed?”

“I need to find Sunggyu _sunbaenim_ and Gyuri unnie.”

“Did you just come here to socialize?”

She punched his arm. He winced theatrically, stumbling away from her. She rolled her eyes, trying to keep herself from smiling.

There had been no need to exchange pleasantries; they were long past the stage of formal greetings. It amazed Eun Mi just how quickly they had fallen into step with one another, the rhythm of their relationship unaffected by the long time gaps between their meetings.

“I’m here _working_. What’s your excuse? Shouldn’t you be practicing?”

“I wanted to see how the kids were doing.”

“They’re doing really well. Though it makes me nervous that they’re going around a stage in Heelys.”

“SPEED has always done flashy choreographies. The guys have prepared enough. They’ll do great.”

“Their song is a little naughty. Did you write it?”

“ _What?_ ”

Eun Mi smiled her trademark smile, her eyes glowing. Taewoon was not given the chance to object; the elevator stopped, the door sliding open.

Taewoon could not decide if the heavens were on his side or against him. On the other side of the door, waiting to get in, stood SHINee’s Flaming Charisma Minho and Almighty Key. A tiny, sort of strangled, sound came from Eun Mi.

She gripped the back of his hoodie, half-hiding behind him. He looked over his shoulder, an endearing smile on his lips.

“Hello,” Minho greeted them, bowing as he and Key climbed on.

Taewoon returned the greeting, keeping a very amused eye on Eun Mi. She gripped his hoodie tighter, her eyes squeezed shut.

“What are you doing? Are you not going to greet them?” he whispered, his voice inaudible to SHINee as the door slid closed.

Eun Mi shook her head fiercely, peeked from around Taewoon, and greeted them as quickly as she could without behind rude. She hid once more, pressing her forehead against Taewoon’s back, holding her breath, trying to become invisible.

No one mentioned how the floor which SHINee got on was the same floor they were supposed to get off on. The elevator started its steady decent.

* * *

The last thing SHINee’s Key and Minho expected to find on the elevator was a half-hidden Song Eun Mi. The man she hid behind seemed vaguely familiar, a face they had doubtlessly seen more than a few times.

Minho stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall. He kept the conversation between him and Key flowing, attempting to ease whatever tension Eun Mi must be feeling. He glanced in her direction several times.

Minho wanted to ask after her, wanted to know if she was okay or if any other crazy reporters had bothered her. He wondered if he should—

“Did CELESTIAL have a comeback?”

Key’s question sliced through the atmosphere like a knife. Taewoon looked at him, clearly startled. He nudged Eun Mi, giving his arm a tiny shake as he looked over his shoulder at her.

“Eun Mi-ah, Key _sunbaenim_ asked you a question.”

“E-eh? W-what?”

Taewoon grinned, swinging his arm over her head, drawing her forward, placing her front and center before her favorite group. If he had known just how much Eun Mi adored SHINee’s Almighty Key, he would not have been as hasty or bold.

Bewildered, Eun Mi looked from Key to Minho, her eyes desperately searching for an escape. Finally, though Minho’s green contact lenses contrasted beautifully with his dark hair, Eun Mi settled on him. She couldn’t look at Key for too long. Plus he was wearing one of those headbands he’d taken a liking to; Eun Mi didn’t care for them much.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t hear your question.”

“I asked it,” Key said. He didn’t speak again until Eun Mi looked at him. “Did CELESTIAL have a comeback?”

“N-not yet.”

“Hm.”

The elevator jerked slightly, indicating their arrival. Minho, concerned, looked from Key to Eun Mi to Taewoon. Key exited without another word. Minho smiled at Eun Mi before following after him.

“Hey,” he chased after him, “what was that all about?”

“She needs to stop hiding. We’re not going to eat her alive. She has got to know that we’re aware of her.”

Minho didn’t disagree with Key, not entirely. He wanted to be friends with Eun Mi just as much, but maybe Key had been a bit much.

“ _S-sunbaenim!_ ”

They stopped. Eun Mi stood with one foot in the hallway and another inside the elevator. Taewoon held the door open. Her eyes were wide, gleaming, nervous, and daring. One of her pigtails draped over her shoulder, her hair clinging to her blouse.

“Good luck tonight!”

Minho’s smile broke through, his eyes shining. He leaned forward, raising a fist. “Fighting!”

Breathing a laugh, Eun Mi mimicked his gestures. “SHINee, fighting!”

Key didn’t say anything, he simply smiled. It wasn’t his trademark smirk, no, it was that small, kind, gentle smile that made Eun Mi’s own grow so big she could feel her cheeks ache. She watched them walk away, their handsome backs triumphant.

Whirling around, Eun Mi launched herself at Taewoon, throwing her body at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Taewoon held her steady, one arm secured around her waist. Her momentum half-spun him.

“Oh my _gosh!_ That was _SHINee!_ ”

“E-Eun Mi—”

“I can’t believe it! SHINee’s Key talked to me!”

“E-Eun Mi! I can’t breathe!”

But instead of apologizing, Eun Mi nuzzled his cheek, laughing merrily. She tried her best to connect with her favorite group without overstepping her bounds as a fan. She never once took advantage of her position as a celebrity to approach them.

Healthy, Taewoon realized. Eun Mi was a healthy fan, the kind that showed her support without obsessing. 

Taewoon, despite the lack of oxygen, rather enjoyed this side of her.


	24. Muddled

Zico never had days off. If he did, he spent them working. Music had to be made. His mind had to be cleared of all the rhythms, harmonies, melodies that bounced around within the confines of his skull.

He had to prepare for _Show Me The Money_ , for Block B’s activities in Japan, and, perhaps, if he had time, on his own solo. Maybe. 

That thought had been swirling around his consciousness for a while. It wasn’t that he didn’t plan on releasing a solo; he’d already done it. However, _Tough Cookie_ hadn’t been exactly what—well, it had topped the charts, but it had left him dissatisfied. He knew he would be criticized (when wasn’t he?), but he had not expected such negativity. The death threats and demands for suicide had chilled him.

At the time, he’d wondered what had caused the backlash. It had taken him some time to realize what exactly it was that international fans were so upset about. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tied his stomach up in knots. Stole the joy from his success.

Now, with a single day off, Zico found himself listening to the sound of Leader HQ’s gate clicking shut behind him.

Leader HQ had become more than a mandatory part of the leaders’ weekly schedules. Somewhere along the way, HQ had become a place of solace, an area where the exhausted leaders managed a moment of respite.

They could forget themselves for a few hours at a time. On days when no mission or games were scheduled, they took it upon themselves to keep the atmosphere lively, and not just for the sake of broadcast. _Follow the Leader_ had become their favorite excuse to play, talk, and learn.

Unfortunately, as one of the busiest leaders, Zico had missed out on much of the silly adventures and late night shenanigans. Tae Jun, the mastermind behind the best games, had often—yet privately—complained that he was never around to participate. Zico had wanted to, but he ended up either too tired or too busy.

The viewers complained about his lack of appearances. Some nasty comments, most stating that he fancied himself too famous to show his face or that he cared more about Show Me The Money, had been found on the program’s home page and his social media. They didn’t bother him, not really. In the end, however, he’d promised to stop by more often, if only to appease Heo PD.

Because of that promise, Zico now found himself standing in the living room of an empty house. He looked around, heaving a heavy sigh. The cameras zoomed in; he could hear their mechanical whir in the absolute silence. He walked towards the window-wall, squinting his eyes against the glare of the early morning sun on the pool’s surface.

He had half expected to see Eun Mi reading, her legs underwater, that wide-eyed, wondered expression on her face.

He stood there for a few moments, not really sure what it was that he had been expecting to find at HQ. Not really sure why he had been looking for Eun Mi to begin with.

Heo PD had also given him an earful about how his lack of interaction with his fellow maknae would do nothing more than fan the already dying rumors’ embers. Maybe he had been searching for a way to—to what?

The unanticipated blast of music accompanied by the heavy vibrations of a bass scared him half to death. HQ clearly had not been uninhabited. Following the muddled music, Zico descended to the basement.

The basement ran the entire length of the house, doubling as a practice room. All the equipment the idols required to practice could be found there. Instead of a ceiling-to-floor window like the one in the living room there was a mirror. To the right and left, adjacent to the mirror and on opposite extremes, were little cutout rooms for vocal practice.

The modifications had obviously been done with the idols in mind. Expensive modifications at that, much more expensive than what the network would be willing to spend on a flimsy program that focused on idols of all things.

Whispers that the CEO of a large conglomerate had arranged for the program to exist in order to satisfy his daughter had reached all of the leaders. It sounded outrageous, but the fact that all the producers shushed them when it was brought up made it all the more suspicious. If it were really true, that made the show nothing more than a stalker’s playground.

The thought chilled Zico’s bones. Where their lives, their careers, at the beck and call of this obsessed individual? How disgusting.

“Oh! It’s Zico!” VIXX’s N shouted over the pounding bass. He paused the music, grinning widely. “We weren’t expecting you. Do you have the day off?”

A sweat drenched Eun Mi joined them, blowing a strand of stray hair out of her face. She looked like she’d been through the ringer. Zico noticed N’s own drenched face and clothes.

“Yeah, seems like I do. What are you two doing?”

“N _sunbae_ is helping me with my dance style.”

N smiled tenderly at her, placing a hand on her head. It seemed like everyone had a tender smile to spare wherever Eun Mi was concerned.

“You already know how to move your body. We just have to get rid of a few hijinks here and there. Like your extreme self-consciousness.”

Zico got the impression that she’d been trying to fix that for a long time. If she was so self-conscious, how did she manage to perform before thousands?

This gave Zico pause. He had never seen her onstage. He had only ever seen her backstage or at HQ. It made him wonder: What was CELESTIAL’s Eun Mi like as an idol? Was she just as infuriatingly good at everything? Maybe even closer to perfection?

“Would you like to join us?” N asked with a friendly smile.

“No,” Eun Mi said.

They both looked at her. N’s brow creased.

“Zico’s been working very hard lately. I’m sure today is his only free day. Did you come here to work? Why don’t you go on ahead and sleep for a few hours?” She smiled at N, placing her hand on his arm casually, familiarly, comfortably.

Eun Mi never touched Zico that way.

“ _Sunbae_ , let’s turn the music down. I think we got a little too excited, we might have disturbed the neighbors.”

“Ah, you’re right. The walls are kind of thin.” N patted Zico on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go sleep like Eun Mi suggested? We’ll call you down once we take a break for lunch, yeah?”

Zico didn’t want to go, but if he were being honest, he was dead on his feet. He nodded—at least he thought he did—and made his way to his room.

Maybe, when he woke up, Eun Mi would be singing.

* * *

N monitored Eun Mi closely. She didn’t miss a single step, didn’t lose count, didn’t get ahead or fall behind the beat. She did well. To an untrained eye, she performed perfectly.

But Cha Hakyeon wasn’t just anybody, nor were his eyes untrained. Eun Mi had asked him for help; she had said her dancing always seemed slightly off. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what made it so strange. N, on the other hand, could.

“Eun Mi-ah, you need to stop thinking so much,” he said. “You follow the choreography to such great precision, and that’s great! But you also need to _enjoy_ it.”

“Yes, _sunbae_.”

He frowned. “Don’t you like to dance?”

Eun Mi collapsed. She wiped seat from her forehead, panting. Her legs felt like jelly and lead all at once. N settled down beside her.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t know how to dance.”

“You’re very coordinated though.”

“I would sure hope so! Master Park would really let me have it if I tripped over my own two feet!”

“Hmm. Maybe you should go clubbing!”

“ _Sunbae_!”

N laughed. “Was that too much? Sorry!”

They laughed, staring at the ceiling as if it contained the secrets of the universe. N wondered what made Eun Mi, a girl so full of cheer and passion, so careful whenever she danced. It really made no sense to him. If she let herself go just a little while dancing, she would surely be outstanding; a triple threat.

“Eun Mi-ah, is there a song you really like? One that makes you want to dance whenever you hear it?”

Eun Mi thought for a moment. He witnessed the moment her eyes lit up. She sat upright, her hair flying.

“ _Mr. Chu_!”

“ _Mr. Chu_?” he blinked. “APink’s _Mr. Chu_?”

She nodded. “I love that song so much! I would love to learn the dance. Ah, but I should probably ask Chorong unnie to teach me.”

“Eey,” N laughed, “I’ve danced SNSD’s _I’ve Got a Boy_! Girl group dances are my forte!”

“Isn’t that stretching it a bit?” she giggled.

“Maybe just a little?” he laughed.

“Do you think I’ll look weird? I mean, I’ve never tried such a cute dance before.” Without warning, Eun Mi’s demeanor became gloomy, crestfallen.

“It’s all just practice,” N said, patting her shoulder. “We can learn the basics and when Chorong gets here, you can ask her to coach you through the cute points.”

Eun Mi nodded, her eyes never once meeting his. N struggled for something to say, a way to encourage her.

“Say, Eun Mi, you’ve never tried to get something out of a man before?”

“E-eh? What do you mean?”

Her brightly lit cheeks made N realize how his question might have come across. His own cheeks colored with heat.

“T-that’s not what I meant!” he laughed nervously, waving his hands frantically. “I just meant—well, girls use _aegyo_ all the time to disarm guys. Um, how should I say it? You’ve never used it against your manager to get him to buy something for CELESTIAL?”

“N-no. Ienna and Chae are the ones that do that, especially Ienna.”

“You’ve never done _aegyo once_?”

The red on her cheeks deepened. She had, in fact, used _aegyo_ once. Not too long ago, she’d attempted the _Gwiyomi_ Player. She had been out of her mind. Entirely! Completely! She’d been possessed by an evil spirits! More than that, she’d been possessed by that fake confidence she’d been clinging to so desperately since—since forever, actually.

“I-I did it once.”

“See? I knew you would have at least tried it once! And, how did it go? Did that oppa do what you asked him too?”

She gave the tiniest of nods.

N laughed. “I knew it!” He pinched her cheek lightly. “Our Eun Mi is adorable.”

Eun Mi wasn’t too sure about that.

Suddenly, she felt very tired. She hadn’t been sleeping well for a few nights. The nightmares had crept up on her. She had been expecting them, but they always managed to frighten the soul out of her. She had an appointment with her psychologist tomorrow afternoon. Manager Jo had made the appointment. Aunt Minha had booked her airplane ticket.

Eun Mi felt awful. Her stomach churned. She had a million things to do. Dance and vocal lessons, recording sessions, practice, recordings, radio shows. She had several more Tae Kwon Do lessons to teach before attaining her second _dan_. Master Park had scheduled one for this evening and one for tomorrow evening as well. Amidst this all, her parents’ wedding anniversary was coming up, just two weeks before CELESTIAL’s comeback.

If she could keep herself together until then everything would be okay. Everything had to be okay.

She checked the time. If she excused herself now, she might manage to sleep for a few hours.

“Sunbae, I think I will—”

“Oh, Eun Mi-ah!”

Jonghoon’s cheerful greeting drew her back into reality. She looked over her shoulder, smiling her best idol smile, the kind that hid her tongue behind her teeth. Jonghoon gave her hair a soft ruffle, sitting beside her.

“What are you doing? Should we work on your guitar playing?”

Eun Mi glanced at N. He gave her an encouraging smile, raising to his feet, he excused himself. “You two go ahead. I think I’ll go order some food. I don’t feel like cooking.”

Jonghoon waved over his head then directed his excited grin at Eun Mi. “Shall we practice? We can look at that song you’ve been working on.”

“Y-yeah, let’s practice.”

* * *

Zico would never admit it, at least not aloud, that the sound of Eun Mi’s voice was a welcomed melody to wake up to. She sang softly, steadily, smoothly, every word a near whisper, a gentle note that slipped through the smallest cracks on the floor, the walls, to reach his ears. After listening to aggressive, more often than not pathetic, rap lyrics for the last month or so, Eun Mi’s voice soothed his earbuds.

Keeping his eyes closed, Zico released a deep sigh, ready to immerse himself in her song.

Bitter disappointment came when Eun Mi stopped singing after only a few bars. Moments later, she started up again, briefly, stopped, and started again. He realized that she was in the middle of a lesson. Zico wondered if Gyuri or Hyorin were guiding her, teaching her with a stern but gentle hand.

The constant interruptions diluted the sweetness of her song. Zico, now disinterested, dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. He always felt murky and icky after long hours of sleep during the daytime; showers were a must.

Slinging a towel around his neck, he made his way down to the basement, catching a glimpse of a tall, lean figure disappearing into the dining room area. He figured it could have been N—or had Sunggyu returned? Tae Jun?

A frustrated, angry series of guitar strums made him hesitate at the bottom of the stairs. He blinked. It took his still sluggish mind to process the image before him.

Eun Mi, sprawled on the practice room floor, a guitar abandoned by her side. A water bottle rolled towards him slowly, the liquid sloshing dramatically against the inside. Jonghoon sat a few feet away from her, his guitar on his lap, a hand raking his hair continuously. There was a pinch to his eyes that Zico had not seen before; then again, he had not been around Jonghoon long enough to know if that was uncommon or not.

“What’s going on?”

Eun Mi’s head lolled in his direction, eyes distant. The exhaustion in them made a shiver run down his spine. He’d known Eun Mi to tire, the knowledge unsettled him.

With a blink, the exhaustion disappeared, replaced by the lively shimmer he’d grown used to seeing. It left him wondering if there had been any deadness in them to begin with. “Oh, it’s Zico again, genius songwriter.”

Shaking his head, Zico entered the room. The floorboards felt cool under his feet, the black fabric of his sweats swaying around his ankles, a little too short for his long body. Eun Mi returned her attention to the ceiling.

“Genius songwriters expand to more than one genre of music,” Jonghoon said. He ruffled his hair, strummed his guitar, gave up, and dropped to lay beside Eun Mi.

“The secrets of the universe are on that ceiling,” she said.

“You’re talking like a dejected trainee,” Zico replied.

“No, they’re really up there,” Jonghoon countered.

“Just how long have you two been down here?”

“An eternity,” he said.

“More like two? Maybe three,” she finished.

“Stop exaggerating,” N said from behind Zico. He turned and found him standing with a small plate topped with tiny, yummy looking sandwiches. He didn’t wait for them to stand, instead, he knelt by them, stuffing their open mouths with the tiny, soft squares.

“Do you still see the universe in the ceiling?”

“No. Now a thousand stars are exploding in my mouth,” Jonghoon said, speaking around his food.

“Mhm!” Eun Mi agreed.

N handed a sandwich to Zico. “These two get cranky when they’re hungry. Especially, Eun Mi.”

He munched on it while watching her. She chewed quickly, stretching out her hand for another. N obliged. She didn’t sit up, didn’t say anything. She simply ate it.

“By the way, Eun Mi-ah, aren’t you going to be late?”

It was as if she’d been shocked. Eun Mi bolted upright, took her guitar in one hand, a sandwich in the other, and ran out of the room, stomping up the stairs in a hurry.

“Thank you for the lesson _sunbae_!”

“Which one of us did she mean?”

“I don’t know.” Jonghoon sat up. “I just wish she’d call us oppa instead.”

It made Zico wonder about her age. He hadn’t really given it much thought before. He knew she was his junior in the industry. Was she also younger than him?

“How old is Eun Mi?”

Jonghoon took the tray from N, placing it on his crossed legs. “She was born in ’92.”

Zico realized that he already knew that. The information had been filed away somewhere in the most cluttered parts of his brain. He also had the vague impression that once upon a time, during an interview, he’d displayed this knowledge. Or, wait, had it been while filming for this program?

He could not be sure.

“I know that,” he said, covering his bases just in case. “What I meant was, has she had her birthday yet?”

Jonghoon paused, looking at N for help.

“Zico, isn’t your birthday in September?”

“Yes, it is.”

“So is Tae Jun and Eun Mi’s.”

“I knew Tae Jun hyung’s birthday was in September. I didn’t know about Eun Mi’s.”

N grinned, stealing the last sandwich from Jonghoon. Jonghoon gave him a deadly glare before shoving the tray back into N’s hands.

“When’s Tae Jun’s birthday?”

“September twelfth.”

“So is Eun Mi’s.”

Jonghoon barked a laugh. “She’s older than you by two days. What rotten luck, _you’re_ the one true maknae of HQ!”

“Don’t be too mean to him.”

“Zico! Your phone is ringing!” Eun Mi’s voice boomed down to reach them.

“Why does she talk so formally to you?” Jonghoon wondered. “Shouldn’t she relax around a same age friend?”

Uncomfortable, and glad to have an excuse to leave, Zico excused himself from Jonghoon’s heavy, penetrating eyes.

He found Eun Mi by the front door, sporting yet another fashionable workout outfit. She hopped about, sliding a pair of socks on, her hair secure into that high ponytail that made his insides burn.

“Where are—?”

“Out. Personal schedules. I’ll be back later.” She tore the door open. Zico got the impression that she cursed under her breath. “N _sunbaenim_! I’m leaving!”

“Be careful!”

And she was gone. Just like that.

How long had it been since he’d talked to her? Had he ever spoken to her properly? Their midnight race in the rain now seemed so distant. He wondered if it had actually happened, wondered if there was any way for it to happen again.

Zico wanted it to happen again.

His phone continued to blast in angry desperation inside his room. It annoyed him enough to pull him away from the front door, although the image of Eun Mi’s flying ponytail still burned in his memory.

* * *

The restaurant wasn’t empty, it wasn’t full, either. Zico ducked under the low doorway, greeting the employees. Smooth, jazzy tunes flitted through the air, swirling around ever so casually, owning the place.

Underneath the cash register an autographed picture of AOMG’s Jay Park hung. He wore a smug expression, his wild, lion tattooed hand held up in a cocky ‘V’. It would seem that he frequented the place often enough from the looks of it.

Zico scanned the area. He had not been expecting a call from Jay so close to the producers’ performances in SMTM. He had also not been expecting for him to be on time, but he spotted him sitting in a very visible spot, his head bowed; his focus entirely on his phone.

Jay did not look up when Zico approached him, nor did he react when he took a seat before him. Jay didn’t look up when he called out his name. Zico had to knock on his side of the table before he even noticed him.

“Oh, you’re here.”

“Hyung.”

“Don’t frown like that. It makes your face look weirder and uglier.”

“ _Hyung_.”

Jay grinned, a wild grin that never failed to come across as a dare. Zico envied Jay’s charismatic looks, envied the smile that so easily turned his features soft and gentle. Jay didn’t have to try to look kind or friendly or approachable. Zico did. Zico had to try his hardest to reassure those around him (mainly newer fans of Block B) that he was not mean or scary.

Had Eun Mi found him scary?

What a stupid thing to wonder about. _Of course_ she had. He’d made sure of it.

“What’s got you looking so scary tonight?” Jay asked, waving a server over. “Did you get dumped?”

“No.”

“Then relax. You’ll scare off the girls with that fierce scowl. How do you even do it?”

He shrugged. “I was born with this face. What did you want to talk about?”

Jay ordered a couple of beers. When Zico didn’t make an effort to contradict him, he ordered a couple of house burgers as well.

“Your brother.”

“What about him?”

Jay made to answer, but his attention was caught by something behind Zico. He cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, “Eey, Latina!”

Zico looked over. He found a very startled Eun Mi at the entrance of the restaurant. Her hair hug loose, her face looked a little different, she still carried that heavy sports’ bag, but she most definitely was not in the clothes he had seen her in last; the sneakers remained the same, but the sportswear had been traded for a simple dress.

He couldn’t decide if its skirt covered too little or too much.

Jay waved her over. “C’mon over Ma Ri!”

“Ma Ri?”

“Her legal Korean name. Don’t you know anything about her? Aren’t you guys living together or something like that?”

Eun Mi kept her bag on her shoulder as she walked over to their table. Her expression reflected a deep, conflicting surprise. “Jay, what are you doing here?”

He patted the empty seat beside him. “Did you just finish with Tae Kwon Do? Are you meeting some friends later? Is it Amber?”

Without hesitating, with great familiarity, Eun Mi sat beside Jay. Zico caught a whiff of fresh shampoo. He realized that the reason she looked so different was because she’d taken a shower before coming. Her hair still seemed damp.

“Yeah, I just came from class. Amber isn’t coming, she had a schedule. Is this the place you’re always going on about?”

“Same one. Do you want a beer?” Jay called their server over before she answered.

The smile on her face made Zico’s stomach burn. He had never seen her act so casually before. He’d had no idea that she even knew Jay Park, for that matter. Although, it should have been obvious since they were both American.

“No, I’m okay. It’d be rude to start without my friends. I should go grab us a table. You two go ahead.”

“Aw, c’mon, I haven’t seen you in a long time. Besides, you still owe me that meal, remember?”

She frowned, dropping her heavy bag on the floor, crossing her arms and leg. It took an immeasurable amount of will from Zico not to look at her legs.

“I remember. But you always want expensive food! CELESTIAL still doesn’t make enough money to feed your expensive taste buds.”

Jay laughed. He threw an arm around her shoulders. It seemed to Zico that people threw their arms around Eun Mi’s shoulders much too easily, too comfortably.

“Alright, alright, then just pay for my beer and I’ll consider the debt paid.”

“Why should I pay for your beer when you were the one that asked me to come over here?”

Jay pulled her closer, embracing her tighter. Zico drank his beer. The server placed a glass before Eun Mi.

“What were you guys talking about?” She sniffed her drink before taking a careful sip, judging the taste.

“Zico’s brother.”

“Woo Taewoon.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jay treated it as such. “Yeah, Woo Taewoon. Do you know him?”

Zico watched Eun Mi watch him. Her eyes were steady. His were expectant. “Yes, I know him. Quite well, actually.”

“Secret love affair?”

“It wouldn’t be secret if I told you, now would it?”

Zico cleared his throat, drank more beer, and wished Jay wouldn’t hold Eun Mi so close. “What is it that you wanted to say about my brother?”

“Right, well, after last week’s round, it’s obvious that he has talent. Snoop Dogg thought highly of his performance.”

“It was his best performance as of yet.”

Jay saw the question written in Eun Mi’s raised eyebrows. “Yes, Ma Ri-ah, we are talking about that Snoop Dogg.”

“Must’ve cost a fortune,” she said over her glass.

It had, in fact, cost a fortune.

“Anyway, he’s been improving with every round.”

“But?”

“Do you think it’s enough? He’s your brother, is there more to him that we don’t know about? He’s quite a character and you both are alike. But…”

“But he’s always just 2% lacking,” Zico finished. “My brother has talent, there’s no doubt about that. His problem is that he thinks too much. That affects his performance. He also lacks confidence. If he continues to be as confident as he was before Snoop Dogg then he’ll definitely make it.”

“Snoop Dogg,” Eun Mi said under her breath, a smile creeping at the corners of her lips. “ _Snoop Dogg._ ”

“Do you think he’ll choose your team? If—?”

“He won’t,” Eun Mi said suddenly. They both looked at her.

“How—?”

“If I were in Mr. Woo Taewoon’s shoes, I would most definitely stay away from my dongsaeng’s team.”

The way she said dongsaeng made Zico’s blood prickle. His palms became clammy. He wiped them on his jeans.

“Mr. Woo Taewoon left SPEED to make a name for himself as a rapper and producer, didn’t he? At least, that’s what Taeha told me. If that’s the case, he’s trying to prove he’s not just some nameless contestant. If he stands beside Zico, wouldn’t the public just continue to address him as ‘Zico’s hyung’? That’s quite distasteful and rude. One of you should tell the editors of the show not to refer to him as such in the captions. It’s awful.”

“Wow,” Jay whistled. He held his beer halfway to his lips. “Have you been watching the show?”

“I watched one episode. That was enough for me to know that there’s some truly evil editing involved.”

Zico wanted to stop talking about Taewoon. The sound of his name on Eun Mi’s lips made him irate. It sounded too casual, too familiar. She never said his name like that.

Eun Mi sat up straighter. She raised a hand over her head then grabbed her bag from the floor, swinging it onto her shoulder as she stood.

“My friends are here now. Gentlemen, it was a pleasure.”

She turned her eyes to Zico. He felt as if it were the first time in the evening that she was truly looking at him. Seeing him.

“I’ll see you at home,” she said.

“About that beer—” Jay started.

“It’s on you tonight.” She winked, taking the glass with her.

This time, Zico didn’t watch her leave. Something dark and unpleasant stirred inside of him. It scared him too much to be analyzed. Still, no matter how much he tried to push it back, to dissipate it, to control it, it continued to rampage.

“…anyway, the point is that they’re finally dating.”

Zico’s head snapped up. “ _My brother and Eun Mi_?”

Jay’s brow furrowed. He waited until the server left before answering. “No, you idiot. Weren’t you listening to what I was just saying? Why would I be talking about Taewoon and Eun Mi?”

“Sorry, hyung, I guess the beer must be getting to me.”

Jay set the fry he was about to eat down. He pushed the plate way, placing his arms on the table, leaning towards Zico.

“Are you feeling alright? You’re not getting sick, are you?”

He wasn’t sick, but he sure continued to feel unpleasant. “No. I’m not sick.”

Jay studied him for a few silent moments. Zico feared he would be able to spot the heavy miasma that clouded his insides if he continued to stare so hard.

“Promise me something, Zico.”

“What is it, hyung?”

“Don’t give Taewoon any handicaps. If he chooses your team, don’t take him and if he chooses another team, don’t influence their decision. Let him do this on his own. Tablo hyung sees his potential as well. You’ve seen how critical he’s been of his performances. He cares. So, don’t devalue Taewoon’s efforts.”

Touched by Jay’s concern for his brother, Zico managed to relax. He smiled a tiny smile.

“I would never do that to him. He would never forgive me for it.”

Taewoon would sooner forgive him for stealing his chicken than for rendering his sacrifices worthless. Taewoon had given up so much of himself for this opportunity. Zico would not spoil it for him. Their blood ties wouldn’t let him.

* * *

He waited for her on the ground floor, leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. He would occasionally raise his eyes, scanning the area for suspicious looking individuals. It wasn’t long before she emerged surrounded by a group of giggling friends. Zico had the overwhelming feeling that this is what it must have been waiting for a girl after class in high school.

The girls gave him a once over before looking at Eun Mi—except that, in that moment, she wasn’t Eun Mi, she was Ma Ri. She carried herself with more confidence, less tension. Her lively eyes contained the stars—no, they reflected the birth and death of constellations. Zico knew how to handle Eun Mi, but he had no idea who this new person was.

“Ma Ri-ah,” one of the women linked her arm through hers, pointing at Zico with her chin. “Isn’t that Zico?”

Eun Mi had not seen him, but the moment that her eyes met his, a heavy curtain drew over her eyes. No longer could he witness the creation and destruction of the universe in them. Instead, all he saw was a distant friendliness. Not even that, it was a distant cordiality.

The rest giggled, not minding his presence in the least, not even a little impressed. They waved goodbye to Eun Mi, promising to text her if they found out anything new, to keep her updated with future events.

“Will you be alright?” the woman asked her. Eun Mi gave her a smile, patting her hand affectionately. The woman leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the cheek (which Eun Mi returned at the same time), sent Zico a glare, and left.

Fazed by the bold display of affection, Zico was left standing before Eun Mi awkwardly. She readjusted the strap of her bag, blinking up at him, expectant.

“Um.” He cleared his throat. “I figured you could use a ride back to HQ.”

“That’s really nice of you, but I’ll be going to my dorm tonight.”

“Oh.”

He felt his cheeks slowly burn. She gave her shoulder another rough shake. Zico reached for her bag, swinging it on. He’d been expecting it this time, the weight of the bag, but his eyes still nearly bugged out of their sockets.

“Just what do you have in this thing?”

Eun Mi blushed in turn. “Sparring gear, my uniform, um…and maybe some spare clothes and shoes?”

“ _Sparring gear?_ ”

“Well, I can’t exactly just leave it at the dojo.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, _sparring gear_.”

She caught his intonation then, smiling a guarded smile. “Yes, sparring gear. You have to do a lot of sparring if you want to move up in ranks. I didn’t get a black belt just by singing my way through, you know.”

“How can someone as tiny as you carry so much weight? You’ve never pulled your shoulder out of its socket?”

“Once when I was ten. One of the kids I was up against got carried away during a competition. Daddy was really mad. It was kind of scary.”

“Your dad took you to competitions?”

They had exited the building, Zico leading them to the underground parking lot a few businesses over. Eun Mi followed him without protesting. She had not exactly accepted his offer, neither had she rejected it.

“Mhmm. I feel like I’ve been telling this story a lot lately. I should just upload a picture of him onto Instagram telling the story all over again.”

“You have an Instagram?”

“Yes, same as you.”

“How did—?”

“Kyung told me.”

“You’re friends with Kyung? Park Kyung?”

She nodded, watching him throw her bag into the trunk. She didn’t wait for him to open her door, so he didn’t offer. She punched in CELESTIAL’s dorm address into the GPS, securing the belt around her.

“Aren’t you worried that we’re being followed?” Zico looked around them.

“I would be worried if I had something to hide.”

“People would get the wrong impression if a photograph of us were to be released.”

“Heaven forbid!” Eun Mi placed her hand to her heart, blinking rapidly.

Zico stared at her for a good minute before asking, “Are you being sarcastic?”

She laughed, winking good-naturedly. “You need to learn not to take yourself so seriously. One photograph of us together wouldn’t do any harm.”

“How can you be so sure? One photograph of us after everything that’s been going on will definitely affect us. Can you imagine the headline? _Block B’s Zico and CELESTIAL’s Song Eun Mi, Hiding a Secret Love behind a Farce_! The media would have a field day!”

“Earth to Zico! You aren’t as great as you think you are. The tabloids wouldn’t focus on us that much. Those rumors died ages ago, thank goodness. Although, it wouldn’t be fair to say they were rumors, now would it?”

He merged into traffic, tapping the steering wheel as he gnawed on his lip. What could he possibly say to that? From the corner of his eye, he saw Eun Mi send a quick text message. She muted her phone, placing it face down on her lap.

“Boyfriend?” Zico teased.

“Manager,” she deadpanned.

Silence.

“Uh, Eun Mi?”

“Hm?”

But Zico didn’t say anything. What could he say? Why was he even driving her to her dorm? Why had he waited for her for an hour after Jay left? Why was he so uncomfortable in his own skin when she was around?

He had been chasing her around all day, like a mongrel after a piece of bread. Avoiding her proved to be impossible. Approaching her felt almost…deadly.

“You can let me down here,” she said.

Zico stopped by a tiny park. He popped the trunk open. Eun Mi didn’t wait for him to get her bag for him, so he didn’t. He rolled the window down, leaning out to see her as she stopped to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the lift. Be careful going back to HQ.”

“Eun Mi!”

She stopped, walked the few steps back to his car. She lowered her head, peeking inside. Her eyes watched him carefully. It was in that gaze, so casual, so distant, so detached, that Zico realized that no matter what he said, Eun Mi would never allow him to get too close.

The apology died on his lips. He looked away, sitting upright. “Never mind.”

Eun Mi jumped back, shocked that he would so viciously pull away while she stood so close. She watched him go, startled and more than a little scared.

“What a jerk.”

She raised her hand, thinking to flip him off, but thought better of it when it started feeling heavy and dirty. She resented her mother for drilling into her the strong distaste for such cheap, crude gestures.

She’d often said, “If you’re going to offend someone, do it with your intellect. Make them feel like insects using only words. Be cunning, sly. Be smarter and better than them.”

Of course, she only ever did say that to Eun Mi when she’d had one beer too many. Still, Eun Mi remembered those words. She wondered if that would work against Zico the next time he acted like such a jerk.

* * *

DAEE had not been expecting to see Eun Mi tonight. In fact, she had not been expecting for their leader to return to their dorm for the next few nights. So, when she opened the front door and found Eun Mi standing just outside, her soul nearly jumped out of her body.

“U-unnie!”

“DAEE,” she said with a soft smile. DAEE didn’t like that smile; it was the smile that said she knew everything and if she didn’t know it, she would soon find out. “Are you going out?”

“Y-yeah, I was on my way to the company. I-I was going to practice some more.”

Eun Mi allowed herself into their home, removing her shoes as she frowned at the mess before the door. “Haven’t you guys been putting your shoes away while I’m gone? You know how it damages them. Not to mention it stinks.”

“N-no one has stinky feet, unnie.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s a smell to a pile of shoes whether the wearer has stinky feet or not. Will you be out long? I have something I want to discuss with you girls.”

DAEE followed her into the living area, nervous and jittery. “I can stay. It’s late anyway.”

She did not like the way Eun Mi glanced at her. She knew. DAEE was sure that she knew. It made her palms clammy.

“Girls!” Eun Mi called out. “Ladies!”

“Unnie!” Ienna burst from her room, throwing her arms excitedly around Eun Mi. “You’re home! I’ve missed you so much! Are you staying? Will you make us dinner?”

“We’ve been starving every night because ReNA won’t let us eat anything good,” Chae complained. “She says we have to watch our weight for the comeback.”

“That’s what the director said! You know how much of a jerk he is when we get around to weighing ourselves at the company.”

Eun Mi raised an eyebrow. ReNA fell silent, scolded by their leader’s powerful gaze.

“Ienna, honey, go ahead and order a pizza. I bet you had nothing but steamed vegetables for dinner.”

DAEE and Ienna whooped, rushing to place an order. Chae fell to her knees, hugging Eun Mi’s legs, fake crying her gratitude.

“ReNA, has the director been after you again? Did he call you fat? Is he harassing you?”

ReNA bit her lip. She was by far the thinnest member of CELESTIAL. As such, the director had a knack for noticing whatever few pounds she put on. During their trainee years, ReNA had been borderline anorexic. Eun Mi had witnessed one of the times the director had harassed her about her weight. She’d forgotten anything and everything about age hierarchies and let him have a piece of her mind.

No one stopped her when she slipped from Korean to English to Spanish. Somehow, everything she said sounded so much more terrifying in Spanish. She’d gotten in trouble, of course, but she’d also managed to get ReNA out of that dangerous situation.

“You’re already too thin. In America, you’d be considered dangerously underweight. Have you been to the doctor lately?”

They both knew she meant her therapist. Eun Mi was a huge advocate of psychological help. She didn’t know where she would be without it. Probably with her parents if not in some mental institution.

ReNA sat on the sofa, drawing her legs underneath her. “I told Manager Jo I didn’t feel too good lately. He made an appointment for me.”

“Good. Chae, get off me and go pick up your shoes.”

“They’re ReNA’s.”

“Bullshit. I know they’re yours.”

Chae, sulking, went to tidy up the mess she’d made while their leader was away. Eun Mi tossed her bag into her room, giving it a once over, before joining ReNA. Lanky ReNA stretched herself over the sofa, resting her head on Eun Mi’s lap. Eun Mi absentmidely began to braid her hair.

“Have you guys decided what hairstyles you want to have this time around?”

“I’m keeping my blonde hair!” Ienna cried from the kitchen.

“I think I’m going with a fiery red. The brightest of reds that there can be,” Chae shouted from the front door.

“I’m thinking about extensions,” said ReNA.

“And you DAEE?”

“I think I’ll do extensions too, but not too long. Long enough to give them some waves, maybe.”

“You’re not going to do anything to your hair, unnie?” Ienna sat by her, her arm pressed against her leg.

“Not just yet. I have a few more inches to grow before I can donate it.”

“That’s so admirable,” Ienna said. “Do you know where you’ll donate it to once you do cut it?”

Eun Mi thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. I just know I want a child to receive it.”

“If you auction it off, I’m sure some crazy fan would buy it. You could donate the money to a charity then,” ReNA said.

The girls were silent for a moment.

“That is absolutely creepy.” Ienna shivered. “They could do some witchcraft with it! What’s that thing that you told us about, unnie? The magic that’s common in the States? VIXX _sunbaenim_ had a concept about it a few years ago.”

“Voodoo. You should be careful if you’re going to talk about that, Ienna. It’s part of a culture in some parts of the United States. International fans could take offense if you talk about it lightly.”

Ienna covered her mouth with both hands. “Unnie, do you know how lucky we are to have you? You know so much!”

ReNA rolled her eyes. Eun Mi shook her head. DAEE sighed. Chae gagged as she reentered the room.

“Just ask her out, already,” Chae shoved her shoulder. “We won’t tell.”

She cast a glance at ReNA then at Eun Mi. Eun Mi kept her eyes on ReNA’s hair, braiding it into complex knots that would have looked beautiful if she weren’t laying down.

Ienna hugged her leg. “Unnie! Would you marry me?”

“That escalated quickly!” DAEE slid into a sitting position. They were now all gathered around their leader, happy and excited. It had been a while since Eun Mi had spent so much time with them. Her schedule was always the most demanding, the one most tightly packed.

“I’m sorry, Ienna, I can’t marry you.”

“Is it because you’re Catholic?” Ienna asked dramatically, widening her eyes. “We can run away and get married somewhere else!”

ReNA and Chae laughed, shaking their heads in disbelief.

“Ienna, stop joking like that. Pretending to be something you’re not is not funny,” Eun Mi chastised. “And, I can’t date you because that would be two-timing.”

She said it so casually, as if were already a known fact and not a sudden nuclear bomb that she were dropping on them. This time, the silence was caused from the great shock she’d given them.  

ReNA sat up, her hair a comical mess of sideways braids. “T-two-timing?”

“Unnie, y-you’re dating someone?” DAEE stuttered.

Eun Mi looked at them each in turn. “Yes.”

Ienna jumped to her feet, her hands fisted at her sides. “Who is he? Is he an idol? Do we know him? Unnie, how long have you been with him? Does he treat you right? Wait, are you guys sexually active? Did you ask Mr. Choi for birth control? Unnie, are you being safe?”

“Whoa!” Eun Mi coaxed Ienna into sitting down, taking her hand. “You should not be yelling all of that. Walls have ears.”

“They’re soundproof,” four voices chimed.

Sighing, Eun Mi allowed Ienna to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around her slender waist. She felt lighter than before. Eun Mi was glad she’d told them to order that pizza.

“Okay, well, first things first. One, I am not sexually active. Are any of you? Do you need birth control?”

“I’m a small child,” Ienna said.

“You’re a pervert, that’s what you are.” Chae gave her hair a tug. Ienna waved her away with a childish pout. She didn’t deny her claims, though.

DAEE, desperately, redirected the attention to other matters. “Unnie, who is he?”

“You guys know SPEED, right?”

“YUHWAN OPPA?!”

Eun Mi jumped so hard Ienna flew out of her lap. “W-what?”

“I knew it!”

“He was always chasing after you!”

“When did you two get together?”

“Unnie, he’s gorgeous!”

She opened and closed her mouth several times. Finally, she managed to shake her head, hair flying. “Are you guys insane? When ever did he chase after me? That’s insane! Do you guys even hear yourselves? The ridiculousness!”

“Abort mission! Abort mission!”

“Warning! Warning! Song Ma Ri is showing her face!”

The doorbell rang. Four girls rose as one, running from the wrath of their leader. Crying “Pizza! Pizza!” without looking back.

Fuming, Eun Mi stomped to her room, her tiny feet shaking up the entire place. She slammed her door, slipped out of her dress and into her most comfortable pajamas, before she called Taewoon.

“Taewoon-ah!” she shouted as soon as he answered. He flinched, holding the phone away from his ear. He looked at the screen, double-checking that it was Eun Mi and not someone else. He’d never heard her voice in such a shrill, indignant high pitch before.

“Eun Mi?”

“Listen to this!” She went on a tirade, pacing her room angrily as she told him just how ridiculous her members were being.

“Wait, you’re telling me Yuhwan was interested in you? Kim Yuhwan?”

“That’s absolute nonsense!”

Taewoon pondered the idea for a moment. It could very well be true, but he wasn’t about to go ask Yuhwan if he had the hots for his girlfriend. He’d beat him to a pulp before he had the chance to answer. Maybe.

“I would have understood if they said Taeha, but _Yuhwan_?”

The way she spat out his name, as if it grossed her out just to even think it, made him smile. “I would have liked for them to think it was Taeha instead of Yuhwan, too.”

“Right?!”

He laughed, pausing only when he heard Zico’s door slam. “It looks like Jiho just got home.”

“Jiho-ah?” Eun Mi sat on the edge of her bed, looking at her reflection in the mirror before her. They had long ago established this unspoken rule to never speak of Zico, but Woo Jiho was a different matter.

Eun Mi could listen to Taewoon gush about Jiho for hours, always proving just how doting, loving, and proud he was of his kid brother. She got to meet Jiho through his stories. They both felt a little rueful that she wouldn’t quite get to meet him in reality.

“Mm. It sounds like he’s upset. He slammed his door pretty hard.”

Eun Mi gnawed on her lip. “Taewoon-ah, I bumped into Zico today.”

“At HQ?”

“No. You remember how I told you I would see my high school friends today? Jay Park and Zico were at the restaurant we planned to meet.”

“Was he mean to you?”

She shook her head. Taewoon heard her do it. “No. On the contrary, he….Well, he waited for me and offered me a ride back to HQ.”

“Didn’t you say you were at the dorm?”

“I am. He drove me here.”

Taewoon paused. “Zico did?”

“Mm.”

Silence. That’s all that could exist in such situation. Taewoon saw enough of his brother while filming SMTM. In fact, it was the most he’d seen of Zico at any point in time since they had both debuted. Unless they both made some time in their schedules, they just hadn’t managed to meet with one another aside from the brief times they were both home.

“Was he mean?”

“No. But I could kinda tell he didn’t want to be nice, either. I don’t know. It was weird.”

“I would imagine so. Are you alright? Did he say or do anything to upset you?”

Eun Mi considered telling him how he had nearly decapitated her when he’d driven away, but she thought better of it. It wouldn’t do any of them any good to mention it. “I’m okay. Just a little weirded out.”

“Promise to tell me if he says or does anything stupid, okay?”

“I promise. But, Taewoon-ah, he doesn’t know yet, does he?”

“No.”

They paused. Eun Mi eventually asked, “Are we going to tell him?”

“Should we tell him?”

Neither of them knew the answer to that. Taewoon felt the need to share her existence with Jiho, but he knew that Zico had an inherent dislike of her. He didn’t know why and he had not exactly had the opportunity to ask him.

If it had been anyone else, Eun Mi would not have stressed about the matter so much. But Zico was Taewoon’s brother. She planned to stay with Taewoon for a long, long time. Somehow, she and Zico would have to learn to get along. She would also have to learn to surpass the anxiety that came with being around him, at least well enough that her stomach stopped hurting.

“Let’s tell him after _Show Me The Money_.”

Taewoon understood, in her subtle ways, she was telling him that she agreed to tell Zico of their relationship. She was also telling him to prolong the moment, to make it all the way to the end.

“Alright.” She could hear his silly, crooked smile.

“Jay said Snoop Dogg complimented you.”

“Did he?!”

“Yeah. I guess you didn’t know. It must’ve been only between the judges. Did you beg for a picture together? I’m sure you couldn’t believe he was there.”

“You know that feeling you get when you see SHINee?”

“Oh man, you got it bad!”

They laughed. She called him a fanboy and he did not deny it. Taewoon loved talking to Eun Mi, it always made him smile to the point that his cheeks hurt.

“I should go. I don’t hear the girls talking anymore.”

“They must be up to no good. I hated it when the guys just stopped talking. It always made me nervous.”

“Ugh, yes. I’m so glad someone understands!” she giggled. “Oh, Taewoon-ah?”

“Mm?”

“I’m going to the States in a few days. I’m going to visit my parents.”

Another unspoken rule: Eun Mi talked about her parents as if they were alive and Taewoon never said anything about it. He’d found out a while back from Master Park that they’d passed away. They both pretended they hadn’t.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Just for a few days. I’ll send you a message when I land, k?”

“Alright.”

“Oh, and Taewoon?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll message me afterwards, right?” She meant after SMTM’s upcoming recording.

“You know I will.”

She sighed in relief.

“Now go check on those crazy girls. I’m sure they turned half of Seoul upside down by now.”

“Ah! Don’t say that! I’ll text you later!”

The last thing she heard was his lovely laugh, the one that made her shiver.

When she opened the door, four bodies came tumbling into her room. She jumped back, yelping in surprise. The girls were a tangled mess of arms, legs, and hair. DAEE tried to pull herself up, using Chae and Ienna as support. They cried out in pain and annoyance, only further entangling themselves.

Eun Mi crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for them to sort themselves out. They all clasped their hands before them, heads bowed, once they managed to get to their feet.

“So?” Eun Mi asked. “Did you figure it out who I was talking to?”

They shook their heads. All they knew was that she’d been happy, laughing, and serious all at once. Whomever the guy was, she truly liked him. Heck, they’d known that from the get-go. Their leader would not put CELESTIAL at risk in any way shape or form unless it was worth the risk.

This man, apparently, was.

Eun Mi braced herself; the girls followed suit. “I’m dating Woo Taewoon.”

For a few breathless moments, no one moved then Ienna screeched. “YOU’RE DATING CORN HEAD, JERK FACE ZICO’S BROTHER?!”

“I’m dating Woo Taewoon! SPEED’s former leader Woo Taewoon! Rapper Wuno!”

“Oh boy,” Chae placed a hand to her cheek. “Does Zico know?”

Eun Mi wished she’d never said anything.

* * *

Zico had been meaning to tell Taewoon how Snoop Dogg had complimented him, how he’d advocated that he’d be placed on top. He wanted his brother to have that extra boost of confidence.

At this point in the competition, there was nothing else Taewoon could do. The producers were to perform before the contestants in the next segment, all Taewoon had to do now was choose a team.

Zico didn’t knock on his door when he first arrived. He heard his laugh, that special laugh he reserved for his nameless, faceless girlfriend, and had walked right by. Which was just as well, since he’d still been upset, confused, over his evening with Eun Mi.

His confusion and frustration only made him angry. Well, angrier.

What exactly was her problem? Did she have to be so—so—?

Taewoon knocked. “Jiho-ah, mom wants to know if you want something for dinner.”

Zico pulled the door open, threw his arms around his older brother the way he used when he was little and scared. He very much felt like a little boy again.

“Hyung.”

Taewoon didn’t say anything. He didn’t move away or ask him if he felt okay. He just stood there, petting his head comfortingly, a single arm around his shoulders.

“Hyung, I think I messed something up and I don’t know how to fix it.”

He felt Taewoon stiffen. Zico stepped back, his brow furrowed. “Hyung?”

Taewoon gave him a shaky smile. “Hey, it’s no big deal. I’m sure that you’ll be able to fix it.”

Zico wasn’t so sure. For some reason, he doubted Taewoon’s words; he wouldn’t meet his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. He suddenly felt as if this were something he could not talk to Taewoon about, at least not now.

“C’mon,” Taewoon gave his back a slap. “Let’s go keep mom some company while she eats.”

“Hey, hyung,” he called him back.

“What is it, Jiho-ah?”

“Snoop Dogg really liked your performance.” The words didn’t flow out of his mouth gracefully, they stumbled out, tripping over each other. “He said you’re a star.”

Whatever reaction Zico awaited, it was certainly not the one Taewoon gave him. He grinned his lopsided, his eyes sparkling with a thousand secrets Zico would never be a part of. He leaned his head back, contemplating the ceiling in much the same way Eun Mi had back at the practice room in HQ.

“Hey, dongsaeng,” Taewoon threw the word at him with affection. “No hard feelings, but I won’t ever be on your team.”

Zico blinked then grinned, hurrying to catch up with him, throwing his arms over his shoulders, trying to head lock him. “Like I would ever want you in my team.”

Their mother didn’t scold them for being playing rough. She’d tired of that a long time ago. Instead, she got her revenge by sneaking some bitter medicine into their drinks. Neither of them wanted to, but they ended up drinking it just to please her.

If they were going to go down, they might as well go down together. As brothers. 


	25. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Blue_Blosson 90 here! First, I would like to thank all of you for reading and loving Brothers Were Brave (BWB). When I first started, I didn't think it would receive this much love, so thank you! Now, as I know that there are many of us with different situations going on in our lives, I would just like to let everyone know that this chapter may be somewhat of a TRIGGER to some readers. It includes scenes with ANXIETY, so please be aware as you go ahead and read this. I hope you all stay safe and healthy while reading this. Again, thank you so much!

If things happened as planned—what would life be like if things happened as one planned them?

In Eun Mi’s case, she would have probably tried to make it to the Olympics (just as everyone continued to say), struggled her way through college algebra, gotten her _dans_ under her father’s tutelage, and, ultimately inherited his dojo. She would have probably had a boyfriend, more than likely an athlete as well (maybe a baseball player, she’d always liked them best), or maybe she would’ve been too busy for one.

One thing was for certain, however, she would not have ever set foot on South Korea if her parents were still alive.

As for singing, Eun Mi would have received a few singing lessons from her mother, been part of their local church choir, and that would have been it. No more singing from Eun Mi because her life, for a fact, would have been very, very, very different if things had gone as planned.

If Ms. Bishop had been able to finish work on time, she would have been able to pick up the girl’s from school. If only she wouldn’t have been stuck in traffic, Eun Mi’s father would not have lost his patience. If he had not lost his patience, he would not have gone to go get them. And if Eun Mi had not agreed to take part in that special district tournament, her mother would not have been worried enough to tag along with her husband to prevent whatever temper tantrum he might have had.

If things went as planned, the truck driver that headed north as her parents headed south would not have been pulled over by the State Troopers on the outskirts of town. He would not have been running late nor would he have been behind the minivan that blew a tire.

If the owners of the minivan had gotten the yearly inspection, the tire would not have blown and the truck driver would not have swerved out of the way into oncoming traffic, right into her parents’ car.

If things went as planned, Eun Mi would not have lost her parents so young. If things went as planned, Eun Mi would not be standing before a group of idol girls, all demanding to know just why and how she ended up dating Corn-Head-Jerk-Face Zico.

But things never went as planned. Hardly ever.

* * *

Chae focused on her fingertips. ReNA twisted her hair, combed it out, twisted it again. DAEE hugged her knees to her chest, eyes shifting from unnie to unnie. Ienna, the most riled of the group, towered before Eun Mi, her hands on her hips, nose up in the air.

On occasion, Ienna’s tall, lean body along with her strong character, confused many into thinking that she was the eldest. Eun Mi’s image, always bubbly, silly, and stuck in a body just making it to the five feet mark contrasted with her age.

But that was only in the public’s eye. Behind closed doors, in the comfort of their dorm or the company, Eun Mi’s character became much more sullen, Ienna’s suited her age. She could be the visual, the main vocal, but she was also the youngest.

When things did not go her way, she could whine for hours. When things became difficult, she sunk into the background, letting Eun Mi take charge. The people at B.Star ENT. usually said that Ienna would have made a fine leader; she took so much after Eun Mi. That was only half right.

While Ienna could grow up to be a mature woman with great leadership skills, her mind still refused the things she did not like. One of those things, or rather, one of those people, was Zico.

She would never forget how Eun Mi’s hands had trembled when they’d pulled her aside at the airport. She would never forget the way in which Zico glared at her beloved leader, her favorite unnie.

It wasn’t that Ienna took after Eun Mi, it was that she followed her around long enough to pick up on her behavior, her habits, and mimic them. Eun Mi shined brighter than the sun in Ienna’s eyes. She could do no wrong, even when she fell short of expectations. In Ienna’s opinion, Eun Mi deserved all the wonders of the universe.

The fact that Zico had been the reason for so many of Eun Mi’s anxiety attacks already made her hate him. He had gotten her caught up in a series of rumors and scandals. Her clean image had been tainted. A.Borealis had suffered great insecurities because of him and Eun Mi had been greatly hurt by the entire situation.

Worst of all, they still didn’t know why he didn’t like Eun Mi.

But Ienna knew why she didn’t like him. She didn’t like him because he didn’t like her unnie. Anything that had any sort of tie with Zico instantly became something distrustful. Taewoon, as his older brother, fell into this category.

“Unnie, you’re not lying to us, right? This isn’t some sort of mean, hateful hidden camera?”

Eun Mi shook her head. Ienna cut her off before she could reply.

“Is this why Corn-Head-Jerk-Face is so rude to you? Because he knew you were with his brother?”

“What? No, of course not. Taewoon has nothing to do with my relationship with Zico.”

“When did you meet him? How?”

“A few days after S Broadcasting told us the show wouldn’t air, at St. Cecilia’s.”

“You met him after and still decided it would be a good idea to be with his brother?”

“Did you know Taewoon _sunbaenim_ was Zico’s hyung?” ReNA asked, her voice steady and soft.

Eun Mi blinked. “Well, yes, why wouldn’t I know? Anyone paying close enough attention to Taewoon would know that he has a younger brother.”

“Unnie,” Ienna whined, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “this isn’t some weird, twisted way to get back at Corn-Head-Jerk-Face is it?”

All color drained from Eun Mi’s face. “I would never do that to Taewoon!”

“You’re not using his hyung to get back at him, are you?”

“What? _No!_ Honestly, Ienna, the things you come up with! Just what kind of person do you think I am?”

Their argument ended abruptly with the frightening sound of the front door’s lock rejecting the passcode. They stood still, their ears attentive. They all wished they’d misheard, hoped that it had been just a desperate trick of the mind

Once more, the lock rang with the denial of entry. The girls jumped to their feet, hiding behind Eun Mi. Ienna clung to her arm, Chae and ReNA hugged each other tightly. DAEE bit her nail, tears in her eyes.

Eun Mi took a step forward, bracing herself, shoulders back. “DAEE, call Na Na unnie. Hurry.”

DAEE hiccupped, dashing to their manager’s room. She tripped inside, swallowed up by the darkness within.

Eun Mi walked over to the monitor, bracing herself for the image that could appear. The camera, however, had been blocked by a sheet of paper.

She swallowed. “Who are you? If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

For a chilling moment, no sound came through the speaker. They jumped out of their skins when a girl’s voice shouted, shrill and hateful, into the microphone: “ _You bitch!_ ”

Something collided against the front door. _BANG!_

Chae screamed, clinging to ReNA. Ienna lost the strength in her legs. Na Na unnie rushed out of her room, slipping in fright. DAEE slammed the door shut, hiding. Eun Mi’s blood froze. The world spun.

She no longer stood in the safety of CELESTIAL’s dorm. She could hear the Vietnamese fans shouting, cheering. Block B walked behind her; Zico’s glare on her. Someone pulled her hair, slammed her to the ground.

Eun Mi’s throat closed up, her lungs stopped working.

“Unnie! _Unnie!_ ”

ReNA wrestled her way out of Chae’s embrace to break Eun Mi’s sudden fall. Ienna, alarmed, watched as Chae and ReNA lowered her onto the sofa with care, listened to her ragged breathing.

Desperate, she looked around. Na Na unnie held the phone to her ear, calling for an ambulance. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the person standing outside their door. Seeing Eun Mi in such a state made Ienna’s anger brim over.

She rushed the front door, grabbing an umbrella from the container beside it. Na Na shouted after her, too slow to catch up.

“Get lost, you anti!” Ienna shouted as she threw the door open.

Whatever had been thrown against their door had been made of glass; Ienna now stepped onto the sharp shards on the floor. She winced, but didn’t back down. Swinging the umbrella around, she looked for their harasser.

Na Na grabbed her shoulder, pulling her inside. Ienna left bloody footprints behind her.

“What are you doing? Are you insane? That’s dangerous!”

“Stop! We need to find them! Otherwise they’ll just keep coming back to harass us!”

Na Na shook her head, blocking her way with her body. “Stay still! The police are on their way.”

Ienna knew that they would be too late. She had been too late. Whomever had done it was long gone.

“You’re bleeding. Let’s get you off your feet. Sit there. Don’t bloody the inside of the house. They won’t let us move out if we damage the place.”

She gritted her teeth, sitting on a chair Na Na unnie had fetched. They would have to leave their dorm. Ienna had heard of fellow idols having to leave because of anti-fans. She never thought it would happen to them. She couldn’t understand it.

* * *

The following morning, the media had a field day. Eun Mi had been taken to the hospital the night before. The sedatives they had given her had been strong, she had not come to until the sun had already risen. Ienna had hurt her foot more than expected, requiring ten stitches total from different lacerations on different areas.

Netizens were abuzz with the news. They continued to post and repost the photographs that had been leaked from the police station by H News.

Apparently, the assailant had followed Eun Mi into the dorm, taken the pizza delivery as an opportunity to get inside, and vandalized their front door. Their face could not be seen from any angle of the CCTVs that were in place. In fact, they had taken great care to turn away from them while they performed the deed.

Ienna had been wrong. The assault had not been against CELESTIAL; it had been aimed at Eun Mi.

Across their dorm’s front door the words DIE SONG EUN MI had been written in blood red spray paint. The assailant had thrown a wine bottle against it, the paint had smeared, creating eerie traces on the surface. Ienna’s bloody prints made it all the more chilling.

The police looked for fingerprints in vain. However, they were able to come across the assailant’s escape. They had taken the emergency exits and more than one security camera had caught their flight.

It was a girl, the cops said, a girl wearing a Block B hoodie and face mask. They could find nothing more, inexplicably.

Minha, sitting by Eun Mi’s side, holding her niece’s hands, had listened to the cops deliver the news and ask Eun Mi a series of questions.

“It could be anyone,” Eun Mi protested. “It could even be someone that’s trying to make Block B look bad.”

“Are you defending them right now?” one of the cops asked, shaking his head.

“No, I’m not. All I’m saying is that they might be trying to hit two birds with one stone. By pretending to be a fan of Block B they make them look bad while they harass us.”

Minha squeezed her hand. “She has a point. Maybe it’s to lead you in a wrong direction. BBC wouldn’t—”

“BBC, HCC, KFC, I don’t care what they call themselves,” the cop said. “They’ve committed a crime and everyone is a suspect. Unless you’d rather we leave you alone, let us do our job.”

Minha, displeased and angry, had agreed, though she had quickly escorted them out. Eun Mi hugged her knees, her forehead pressed against them. Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

“The girls? Ienna? Her feet!”

She swung her legs out of bed, wincing at the tug of the IV. Her eyes filled with tears, the room spun as she realized that there was a _needle_ stuck into her body.

Minha held her down, her green eyes wide with worry. “ _Mija_ , calm down. Ienna’s fine. She had a few stitches here and there, but she’s fine. They’re all taking a few days off and getting examined.”

Eun Mi gripped her head, pulling at her hair. “I can’t believe I passed out. Just—what—argh!”

“Stop that!” Minha gripped her hands. “You have to calm down, Ma Ri! You don’t want the doctor to sedate you again, do you?”

Eun Mi was desperate. Her heart raced. Her blood rushed. She could hear it, pounding in her ears, driving her insane. Her breaths came in short gasps. It hurt to breathe. It burned not to. She could hear Minha calling out her name. She could hear the distorted words.

She reached for her aunt, looking for a lifeline. But Minha disappeared. She was there one second and gone the next. Eun Mi whimpered. She could feel herself fading.

Some part of her mind knew that she could defeat this. She could. She could. If she could only be held while she found her way back. If only Aunt Minha hadn’t left her.

A strong set of arms wrapped Eun Mi in a protective embrace. They drew her against a broad, warm, familiar chest. A huge hand held her head, stroking her hair every so often. She wrapped her arms around him, gripping his clothes tightly.

“Not here, Eun Mi-ah. You can’t fall apart here.”

A sob nearly choked her. Taewoon held her steady, his fingers twined into her hair. He whispered soft words, describing a paradise of his creation. He pressed his lips against her ear, his heavy voice forming images of beauty. Taewoon wove a story of wonder with just his words.

Slowly, his words made it through. Eun Mi’s shaky breaths steadied, became deeper.

“Good girl,” Taewoon pressed a kiss to her temple.

Eun Mi buried herself deeper into his embrace, inhaling his scent. She held him tighter. Taewoon did the same. Her heartrate slowly decreased. Her limbs felt like lead; she could hardly keep her arms around him. Exhaustion washed over her.

By the door, someone cleared their throat. Eun Mi recognized Uncle Min Soo’s tattletale grunt. Taewoon made no move to stand or to pull himself away from Eun Mi. She nuzzled her face against his chest, loving his presence, loving his arms, loving him.

“Excuse me, but who are you and why are you here?”

* * *

In a perfect world, things would go as planned.

If things went as planned, Taewoon would not have met with Eun Mi until after the fifth round of SMTM. She would have returned from visiting her parents and he would have continued on his way to success.

Taewoon would have met Eun Mi’s guardians at his best, with his hair washed, his clothes tidy and pressed. He would have been able to tell them he was a successful rapper/songwriter, that he had an even brighter future ahead of his already bright present. He had planned to make a great impression.

But things hardly ever went as planned.

Taewoon had lost all sense of rhyme or reason when he’d seen the news. It had taken him longer than he would’ve liked to find which hospital they had taken Eun Mi to. He’d had to circumvent his way around to get in touch with Su Jong, and even then it had been through Taeha only after Jungwoo had told him they were close friends.

Someone had set up security guards around her room, which he approved up, but made his approach all the more difficult. It wasn’t until Minha dashed out, alarmed, calling for a doctor, that Taewoon managed to slip in.

Finding Eun Mi in the middle of a panic attack nearly gave him one of his own. Her eyes were wide, her mouth gasping for air, hands reaching for anything, anyone. Taewoon had seen it enough times to recognize it for what it was. He had also learned how to best help her cope.

Having her uncle walk in on them had most definitely not been part of his plan.

Min Soo had not expected to see his only niece wrapped up in some man’s embrace anytime soon. So, when he had walked in on the last moments of her panic attack, he had been surprised to find Taewoon guiding and supporting her through the end of it.

He noted that he had not washed his hair, that his clothes looked slept in, and that there were very apparent, very old dark bags under his eyes. When he cleared his throat, Eun Mi only tightened her arms around him.

Taewoon’s eyes met his and he gave him as much of a bowing greeting as he could while hugging Eun Mi. He would have greeted him properly had she not just escaped the clutches of fear. He noticed Su Jong standing beside Min Soo, a teasing grin on his face; he recognized him because of his electric blue hair peeking from underneath his cap.

“Hyung, you’re here.”

“You two know each other?” Min Soo inquired through gripped teeth.

“Course we do! Don’t you know all rappers know one another?”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I’m not. We do know each other and we’re both rappers.”

“Shut up, Jong, you’re loud,” Eun Mi muttered into Taewoon’s chest.

“What did she say?”

Taewoon cleared his throat. “She asked for you to be quiet.”

Su Jong whistled. “I’m sure she said something along the lines of ‘Shut up, Jong, you’re too darn loud.’”

“Close enough.”

Min Soo gave Taewoon a brief look before stepping out into the hallway. He returned with a pale Minha and a doctor.

Eun Mi refused to let go of Taewoon, so the doctor had to check her vitals with her glued to her boyfriend.

Su Jong approached them, comfortably, familiarly, combing Taewoon’s hair back, and placing his cap on his head, securing it carefully. He procured a mask from his back pocket, hooking it behind his ears, hiding most of his nose and chin with it.

“There are a lot of reporters out there. How did you get in here without anyone seeing you?”

Taewoon blinked. With the spotlight on his little brother, Taewoon hardly worried about being seen. No one had noticed him, not a single reporter. It had, in fact, been quite easy to get up to Eun Mi’s room.

“Are you always this reckless?” Min Soo snapped.

“No, sir,” Taewoon replied.

Eun Mi, feeling a tiny bit better, sent her uncle a pouty glare. “Don’t be mean.”

Minha sighed, sitting on the small sofa beside Eun Mi’s bed. “I’m sorry that we had to meet this way, Taewoon-ah.”

Taewoon started. Song Minha looked nothing like her niece. She was tall, fair-skinned, with straight caramel hair styled just beneath her shoulders. She had a sharp face, smaller eyes, and thinner lips. She and Eun Mi had two things in common: they were both beautiful, each in their own style, and they both said his name in exactly the same way.

Eun Mi felt Taewoon’s discomfort, his unease at having met her aunt and uncle so abruptly. She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. Taewoon stood, bowing to her family.

“I apologize for meeting you this way.”

Min Soo tried to get a word in, but his wife spoke first. “Don’t worry about it so much. I’m glad we met this way. I can tell you love my Ma Ri very much. If you had not shown up at all, I wouldn’t have liked you quite as much.”

“Still,” Min Soo put in, “you are both public figures. Let’s meet again when circumstances are better.”

Taewoon thought he was being dismissed, so it surprised him when Min Soo motioned for Minha to follow him out.

“They have to do damage control,” Su Jong explained.

“Su Jongie, take this thing out of me,” Eun Mi raised the hand with the IV.

“Hell nah. Do you want the doctors to kick me out? Worse yet, do you want Nurse Kim to get after me? Nuh uh! She’s scary!”

Taewoon took her hand in his, gently covering the needle. His eyes shouted, asking her if she was okay. They were so pained, so worried. Eun Mi felt guilty for worrying him.

As an idol, she should tell him that he had been foolish to come. More problems could arise from such recklessness. Their relationship could be exposed, scrutinized, criticized. They had more to lose than to gain if that came to pass.

Yet she could not bring herself to scold him. He had appeared just when she had needed someone the most, had helped her cope through that scary attack. He’d held her closer when she’d clung to him.

She caressed his clothed cheek, gazing into his eyes. Her silence thanked him, comforted him, welcomed him.

Su Jong waited for their moment to end. It became apparent that those two could gaze into each other’s eyes for all eternity if they were given the chance. He sighed dramatically, dropping the bag he’d brought for Eun Mi on the floor, loudly.

She jumped. Su Jong fetched a brush from within and started combing her hair. “Hold still. You look like Medusa right now.”

Eun Mi, relaxed by his touch, tried to address the matter before her. “Zico, does he know about this?”

“I don’t know,” Taewoon confessed. “He was not home this morning. He went back to HQ last night after having dinner with us.”

Su Jong wondered how they could talk about Zico. He knew, from what Eun Mi told him, that Taewoon really loved his little brother. He also knew that Zico somehow always managed to trigger one of Eun Mi’s attacks.

One brother triggered them while the other one dispelled them. Really, what where the odds?

“I’m sure he knows,” Su Jong said. “It’s all over the news. Unless he’s locked up somewhere without internet, he should know.”

“What a mess.”

Taewoon watched Su Jong plait Eun Mi’s hair into a pretty braid. “How did you learn to do that?”

“Do what? Braid hair?” He gave Eun Mi’s finished braid a toss. She turned around to smack him. “I lost a bet once. I had to be her slave for an entire month. It was hell. First thing she taught me was how to braid her hair.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Eun Mi scooted closer to Taewoon, resisting the urge to climb onto his lap. She looped her arm through his, resting her head on his bicep. “Everyone told you not to do it.”

“ _You_ didn’t tell me not to!”

“No one told you to listen to me.”

“ _You_ told me to!”

Finally, Eun Mi smiled. The tension in the room deflated, disappeared without putting up any sort of resistance. Taewoon and Su Jong had both been worried that this event had broken Eun Mi beyond repair.

“Manager Jo sent some clean clothes,” Su Jong nodded to the bag on the floor. “He said it would be good for you to reassure A.Borealis after you feel better.”

“With a selfie?”

“Duh.”

None of them felt like really considering the gravity of the events. They pushed it under the rug. Su Jong, always hungry, made a run to the cafeteria and returned with coffee and sweet bread. He no longer offered to do anything for Eun Mi. Taewoon took over with ease.

Despite their busy schedules, those two had managed to spend enough time together to know each other well. Eun Mi looked for the bread without cream filling, handing it to Taewoon. He was lactose intolerant, she told Su Jong. Taewoon, on the other hand, didn’t hand Eun Mi her iced coffee until the ice had melted. She could not drink bitter things well, so she always waited for the ice to water it down.

Su Jong watched them. They seemed to be a single organism. They moved around each other with ease, even the most miniscule movements complemented one another. They were each other’s suns, the center to their universes. This dance between two suns both fascinated and appalled Su Jong.

Their conversation turned from one subject to another effortlessly. Sometimes they fell into a comfortable silence before their words filled the air again. Su Jong liked the way their voices sounded together; Eun Mi’s smooth, silvery sound blended with Taewoon’s deep, grave baritone. He made a mental note to suggest a collaboration later.

A soft knock on the door drew his attention away. He set his own food down; Taewoon slipped the mask back on.

“Probably the doctor,” Su Jong said. “They might be doing rounds.”

* * *

Chorong had been worrying about Eun Mi all day. She had finally managed to escape from her busy schedule for a few hours to stop by and check on her. If she had been answering her phone, she might not have had to travel all the way to the hospital. Actually, even if she had answered her phone, Chorong would have stopped by anyway.

She had been expecting reporters to be loitering around, but the hospital had driven them out for the sake of the patients. Chorong had stopped by a flower shop to buy Eun Mi’s favorite daisies. She’d meant to buy a bouquet but ended up with a really pretty, really heavy basket instead.

So, when she found Zico in the waiting room, she was glad that there was someone to take the basket from her. She didn’t ask him what he was doing there, she knew he’d been meaning to visit Eun Mi. After hearing what had happened, all the leaders in HQ were concerned for their maknae.

“Come with me,” she said. “I’ll tell her I dragged you here if you want me to.”

Zico had given her a tentative smile and followed her. Chorong would have never imagined finding Su Jong and a rather tall, rather big man sitting on the bed with Eun Mi. He had a mask over his face, his cap pulled low over his eyes. He turned away from them slightly. Eun Mi’s eyes widened.

“Eun Mi-ah!” Chorong dashed forward, wrapping her arms around her friend.

The man stood up, quickly receding to the farthest corner of the room. Eun Mi returned Chorong’s hug, keeping her horrified eyes on Zico.

Zico had seen the man sitting on Eun Mi’s bed as well, but he had been forced to look away by Su Jong’s glaring presence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came with Chorong noona.” He held up the heavy flower basket, glad that Chorong had had the foresight to concoct such a simple yet bulletproof excuse.

Su Jong snatched the basket out of his hand. Inspecting the flowers carefully. He set it by Eun Mi’s bed, touching their petals with gentle fingers. He kept a glaring eye on Zico.

“How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere?” Chorong fussed.

“No, unnie, I’m okay.” Eun Mi placed the hand with the IV underneath the blankets, avoiding it. “What are you two doing here? There was a bunch of reporters outside earlier.”

Zico placed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders. He’d drawn his snapback over his eyes, hiding them from Eun Mi.

Chorong busied herself with Eun Mi’s hair, stroking away the stray strands that Su Jong had missed. She wasn’t stupid. She felt the tension in the room. Everyone at HQ had been able to pick up on Zico and Eun Mi’s rocky relationship. Most had agreed not to meddle; Chorong only acted as if there was nothing wrong because Eun Mi had asked her to once.

Eun Mi’s eyes softened the longer she took in Zico’s body language. He looked young, small, afraid, maybe a little ashamed. She hated how their relationship was, hated that she did not have the courage to ask him what made him so upset or why he hated her so much.

If she were being honest, what frightened Eun Mi the most was finding out that he _did_ have a reason to hate her. If that were the case, how could she apologize for all the trouble she’d caused.

Zico and Eun Mi’s relationship was theirs. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that it would place Taewoon in a really awkward position if they were not, at the very least, cordial with one another.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Zico said quite unexpectedly.

Eun Mi and Zico where the three people in the room that knew he meant driving away from her so harshly. It didn’t sound like much, but really, it was a huge step in patching up their relationship.

Making amends with one another had suddenly become very important to both of them. To Eun Mi for Taewoon’s sake. To Zico…well, he did not know just what made it so important as of late.

Su Jong, however, couldn’t resist putting in his two cents.

“Don’t let the reporters hear. They’ll take it as a confession.”

Taewoon shifted uncomfortably, catching his eye. Su Jong’s widened slightly, shifting quickly to indicate the door.

Eun Mi felt Chorong tense beside her, already aware of the poison dripping from Su Jong’s words.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean,” he pressed, pulling at his blue hair absentmindedly. “You practically sent that anti after Eun Mi.”

Zico jerked his hands out of his pockets, straightened his back. He pushed the lid of his cap up, his eyes sharp slits. He looked ready to fight. “Are you implying that I want to hurt Eun Mi?”

“Everyone knows you don’t like her. It would only take one tiny whisper, a tiny buzzed command to one of your wily bees.”

“Su Jong!” Eun Mi intervened. “What’s gotten into you?”

They exchanged looks. Eun Mi understood that he was trying to get Zico out of the room, but she did not like the way he went about it. She also knew that he meant what he was saying, that he believed it, up to a certain point.

It did Su Jong no good to hear Eun Mi deny it. He wanted to see just how far Zico would go to get back at someone he disliked. If he disliked Su Jong more than he disliked Eun Mi, maybe the anti-fan’s attention would be diverted.

He also kinda wanted Zico to leave the room. Taewoon had been standing awfully still for a while now and if he moved the tiniest bit, Zico would doubtlessly recognize him.  

She was afraid of what recklessness might dictate Su Jong’s actions. For a brief moment, she saw in him his old self, the boy that had nearly forsaken his mother, the one that cared little about others. That old Su Jong had written fierce raps that hated the world; that old Su Jong resembled Zico when he stopped caring.

“It wasn’t a BBC,” Eun Mi said in a tiny voice.

“You keep saying that, but how can you be sure? The cops were right. Everyone is a suspect.”

“It wasn’t a Bee,” Zico said through clenched teeth, knuckles white.

“Of course it wasn’t a Bee,” Su Jong nearly shouted, throwing his arm up in exasperation. “ _It was a fucking wasp._ ”

Then several things happened at once.

Zico lunged at Su Jong. Taking him by the collar, he raised his arm, ready to let his punch fly. Eun Mi tried to stop them, held back by Chorong to prevent her from ripping the IV out. And the man that had been standing so still by the corner moved so quickly, Zico didn’t see him until he was upon him.

His hand, bigger and stronger than Zico’s, clasped his wrist. He pulled back as Zico tried to swing forward. The man’s arm came around his waist, grabbing him tightly, pushing him away from Su Jong without much effort. He handled Zico as if he were made of paper, countering whatever force he might have applied with a greater one of his own.

“Let go!” Zico thrashed against him.

Taewoon looked at Zico, his eyes digging into his with harsh reprimand. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. Zico’s subconscious picked up on his hyung’s stern scolding. Recognition crept along the edges of his mind, flashing across his eyes.

“Ugh! You’re such a useless manager!” Su Jong threw a pillow at Taewoon’s head, breaking their eye contact. Taewoon kept his head bowed, playing along with Su Jong’s quick plan.

“You’re supposed to keep this kind of shit from happening to me! If he had punched me, I would’ve made sure you were fired!”

Chorong gawked, shocked at Su Jong’s uncharacteristic rudeness. She sought answers from Eun Mi, but the younger girl only had eyes for Su Jong’s manager and Zico.

Zico, suddenly aware of her eyes on them, pulled himself free from the manager’s grasp. He brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt, clearing his throat.

“I just came to see if you were okay.”

“I know.”

A pause. “It wasn’t one of my Bees. It couldn’t have been.”

“I know.”

The silence stretched out, uncomfortable, heavy. Taewoon watched Zico from the corner of his eyes. He looked pained, as if he wished to say more but, for once, could not find the right words.

“I’ll see you at HQ,” he finally said, walking out of the room without looking at her again.

Chorong looked around, unsure. She wanted to remain with Eun Mi, but if she allowed Zico to walk out on his own, he could be caught by any reporters that might be lurking around.

“Eun Mi-ah, call me when you can, okay? I’m going now.”

“Please take care of him,” Eun Mi said, relaying the message Taewoon could not utter. “He’s having a hard time now. Make sure he gets home safe.”

Chorong nodded, resolute. “He won’t be able to get away from this noona that easily. Fighting!”

She gave Eun Mi a final hug before dashing out after Zico.

“Hyung,” Su Jong said after the door had clicked shut. “I was only trying to get him out of here as quickly as possible.”

Taewoon tugged the mask down, exhaling. “I know, though it would have been easier for me to slip out.”

Eun Mi collapsed on the bed, burying her face in the pillow. Too many people were getting involved. They were all starting to stir a storm in a cup of water. Taewoon rubbed her back, lending her comfort and strength.

His ringtone startled them all. He looked at the screen, his eyebrows drawn together. Zico was calling.

“Hello?”

“Hyung, where are you?”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“Are you home? I’m headed that way.”

It seemed that the assault and accusations had shaken him more than what he was letting on. Taewoon glanced at Eun Mi. She blinked at him then waved him away. He leaned in to peck her lips gently.

“Alright,” he said into the receiver. “I’ll be there in about an hour. I’m at the company.”

“Hurry.”

“What are you going to do about your clothes?” Su Jong asked. “He just saw you in here and he left before you.”

“Are you stopping by the apartment or by SPEED’s dorm?” Eun Mi asked.

“The apartment is closer. I’ll text Jungwoo and tell him to cover for me if Zico asks. Doubt he will.”

Eun Mi nodded, allowing him to steal another kiss. “Go. Jiho-ah needs you.”

Taewoon left.

Years prior, he had not been a good hyung. He had done little to nothing for his kid brother when the greatest crisis of his life had happened. Now, Zico hardly reached out for Taewoon. When he did, it was truly serious. Though he had no idea what he could do, he would be there for him. At least he could listen.

* * *

Long ago, Zico learned that the plans one made were never really carried out as expected.

He’d planned to learn as many things as much as he could. That ended up not working out. He planned to make his mother proud; he’d only half accomplished that. His mother spent more of her time worrying about her sons than being proud of them.

He’d planned to be part of Block B, a good leader. Somehow, they were always causing one sort of issue or another. A controversy, a lawsuit, scattered rumors here and there. In the process, Zico had become the main source of their music and their controversies.

He shouldn’t be ungrateful, he was one of the few privileged K-Pop idols that had the opportunity to create his own music. Rapper, leader, song-writer, producer, K-Pop idol. Just how much had he piled up on his plate? He had not exactly planned for so much.

Zico had also not planned for the issue that was Song Eun Mi. He had not planned to see her again, had not planned that on being so involved with her. He had most definitely not planned for her continuous presence in his life. One way or another, Eun Mi kept appearing before him, just like that night so many years ago.

During their first “professional” encounter, Zico had truly disliked her. He had made up his mind to live his life disliking her, to make a point of disliking Eun Mi and demonstrating it. The more he saw of her, the harder it became to continue being mean to her. He found himself thinking of her often, enjoying her voice, laughing at her crazy antics.

Zico had most definitely not planned for that.

What’s more, he had not planned for their relationship, already so strained and shaky, to be affected by something like an anti-fan. Really, Zico did not need their help to mess things up—he had done so himself.

What Zico needed to do know was find a way to fix things between him and Eun Mi. Why he wanted to do so or how he was going to do it, he still did not know. He just knew that he had to.

He planned to.

* * *

“You look like shit.”

Taewoon had not been expecting that greeting. Zico also threw a cushion at him. He was draped over the sofa, his face buried in his arms. Their mother had gone out with a friend. Their father was at work. It’d been a long time since they’d both been at home together.

“Shouldn’t you be practicing for the performance?”

“Look who is talking.”

Taewoon moved Zico’s legs, allowing him to deposit them on his lap after he’d settled down. They didn’t say anything. Taewoon waited for Zico to speak first.

“Hyung, have you ever fucked something up so bad you don’t know where to begin to fix it?”

Taewoon wondered if he was talking about his relationship with Eun Mi. He considered his own pile of mistakes before answering.

He thought about the many fights he’d had with the members of Co-Ed School after that vicious rumor. He thought about his fractured friendship with most of them, how he had been quick to mistrust and judge. Taewoon had often attempted to justify his reaction, tried to explain it away as being too afraid of failure, Co-Ed School had just debuted and they had been much closer to failure than to success.

A thousand times, Taewoon had gone over the arguments to the point of forgetting what had been said, his guilt sustained the dark, unsettling, disgusting feelings that had continued to haunt him for years.

Things had gone really wrong. They had all been wrong. He had been wrong.

“Hyung?”

“Of course I have.”

Zico turned onto his back, his long limbs twisting into Taewoon’s. When they were kids, they used to fit just fine; Taewoon sitting with Zico’s toes just brushing his thigh when he stretched out at his fullest. They’d gone through several sofas that way, just sitting and laying there talking or lazing around.

Trying to do it as grown men, both taller than six feet, was a little awkward but no less comforting.

“Was it during Co-Ed?”

“Yeah.”

And after Zico had gone through his own hardships and he had failed to be there for him. Taewoon should have done better. Their relationship was better now, but it still felt as if Zico would rather depend on others than on him.

As an older brother, he felt like a failure.

“Hyung?”

“What is it?”

“That girl you’re with, how did you realize you liked her? Did you two always get along?”

“What’s this all of a sudden?”

“Just answer. Did you two always get along? Did you like her right away?”

Taewoon thought for second, pretending as if the answer were difficult to answer. He suspected just where Zico was taking this conversation.

“I thought she was stupid. She was sleeping out on the open.”

“What?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “I met her at a church. St. Cecilia’s is by one of my jogging routes. She was out in the prayer garden one morning.”

“Sleeping?”

“Praying. She fell asleep praying.”

Zico’s eyes shimmered. “That sounds kinda romantic and cheesy at the same time.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s why you liked her because she was praying before she fell asleep.”

Taewoon barked with laughter. “No way! I mean it was cute, but seriously, there was this girl sleeping out in the open while it’s still cold out, holding a rosary in her hands, not aware of her surroundings at all. Would you find that cute?”

“No. It’s stupid.”

“Exactly.”

“So then what happened?”

“I let her use my shoulder.”

“Eey! Hyung!”

“And then I told her she drooled all over my jacket.”

“You asshole.”

They laughed; Zico shoving Taewoon with his bare foot and Taewoon smacking his leg away.

“Did she believe you?”

“Yeah.”

Zico grinned. “That’s cute.”

“She even offered to wash it for me.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah.”

Zico squirmed, clenching and unclenching his fingers. “How cheesy!”

“Why am I telling you about this?”

“Did you two get along? Even after you told her she didn’t drool? Or wait, did she drool?”

“She didn’t drool.” Taewoon laughed, recalling the memory. “We did get along. We have always gotten along.”

“Ah.”

That was a lie.

Taewoon still remembered the moment he and Eun Mi argued. Hiding inside a classroom in St. Cecilia’s, the tension between them when Zico had been brought up. Taewoon, sometimes, stayed up at night regretting. He had not said it in so many words, but Eun Mi, ever so intuitive, had picked up on his implied accusation: “You are here for my brother, not me.”

How Taewoon regretted.

“Hyung, if you ever fight with her, what will you do?”

“If I did something wrong, apologize. If she did something wrong, wait for her apology.”

Zico clasped his hands, rubbing his fingers together. “You don’t find it difficult? Apologizing, I mean.”

“I do. I can be prideful.”

“Mm. I think I’m that way too.”

“Zico, if there’s something you need to apologize for, just do it. It’s the first step in making amends.”

Zico gnawed on his bottom lip, his thumb rubbing the sore flesh after his teeth had nearly ripped it to shreds.

He truly worried, Taewoon realized, he worried about how things were between him and Eun Mi. Zico was not known to stress or mull over things like these. He spent so much time working that he never gave himself the luxury to think about his relationship with others this much.

Taewoon also realized a truth that Zico had not yet seen, or if he had, was denying it with his entire being.

Zico had a crush on Eun Mi.

He had a crush on Eun Mi the size of the moon.

Taewoon felt bad for him. He reached over and gave his little brother’s shoulder a squeeze. “Hey, Jiho-ah.”

Zico’s gaze came up, his mouth open, his thumb still against his lip. “Hm?”

“When you like a girl, make sure you’re the one she likes the most.”

He laughed, finding the sudden love advice uncalled for and out of place. “Does your girlfriend like you the most?”

“Yes,” Taewoon said. His lack of hesitation gave Zico pause. “I know for certain that I am the one she loves the most.”

Something shifted in Taewoon’s eyes. He gave his shoulder another squeeze before shoving his legs off his lap and heading into his room.

They were a cracked looking glass, those two brothers. Larger than life, deeper than the earth, two sides of the same coin—morphed reflections.

It was triumph that Zico had seen in Taewoon’s eyes. He’d seen it enough time in his own to recognize it in his hyung’s.

A desperate darkness gripped Zico’s heart without warning. He felt as if he’d lost, felt as if he would always come in last to Taewoon.

But how? Why?

It made no sense. It made absolutely no sense to Zico.

Possibly... had they gone through the looking glass? 


	26. Mighty Long Fall

Eun Mi waited for Manager Jo. She had just received her second _dan_. Usually, she would have gone out to celebrate with Master Park and her fellow teammates, but with the anti—Well, Manager Jo had prohibited several things for CELESTIAL’s safety. The last couple of days had been strictly regulated; they had crawled by, placing Eun Mi in this sluggish momentum that aged her centuries in a single hour.

She kicked her legs back and forth, holding her phone in her hands. Taewoon would be choosing the team he would like to be in at SMTM tonight. Eun Mi wondered if he had already chosen. She didn’t know much about hip-hop. She knew she liked Tablo, Verbal Jint, and, of course, Jay Park. She had worked with Verbal Jint once for a variety show. She had balanced out his lethargic, slow movements with her strength and agility. They had still lost miserably.

Eun Mi didn’t really like SanE. What she had seen of him behind the scenes made her skin prickle. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something about him made her…uncomfortable.

Of course, Eun Mi knew Taewoon wouldn’t choose Zico’s team. Never Zico’s team. Not when the entire point had been to emerge from Zico’s ever lengthening, thickening shadow.

Were there more teams to choose from? Tablo’s, Jay Park’s, Zico’s, SanE’s, Verbal Jint’s—no, wait, weren’t Verbal Jint and SanE a single team?

She would have looked it up except her phone started ringing. Eun Mi stared at the screen, confused.

It was Zico.

She slid her thumb across the screen, accepting the call. “Hello?”

“Hello, Eun Mi? Chorong noona is wondering if you will be at HQ tonight.”

“No, I won’t be there tonight. I have to be back at the dorm.” She heard N laughing in the background. Chorong’s voice filtered through. “A-are you at HQ?”

“Yeah, I just got here.”

“W-what about _Show Me the Money_?”

“We finished for the night.”

Eun Mi stared at the wall opposite her, saying nothing. Zico called her name a few times. “And Taewoon?”

Zico backpedaled. “Why are you suddenly talking so informally? Shouldn’t you be more respectful when talking about my hyung?”

“Just answer. What happened to Taewoon?”

“He was eliminated,” Zico deadpanned.

Eun Mi hung up.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, dashing out of the dojo, speed dialing Taewoon. He didn’t answer. She tried again. She got his voicemail. She ran to the main road. If she hurried, she could still find a taxi.

Eun Mi pressed the phone to her ear, her steps short and quick. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

The call went to voicemail. She cursed, the words sliding in tidy Spanish underneath her breath. She raised her arm, hailing a cab. She punched in another number. Taeha answered as she shut the door behind her.

“Eun Mi-ah, hello,” he sounded happy to hear from her, relieved even.

“Tae! Are you with Jungwoo?”

“Jungwoo hyung? Yeah, he’s here.”

“May I speak with him?”

“With Jungwoo hyung? Yeah, sure, give me a sec.”

The taxi driver caught her eye in the rearview mirror. Eun Mi gave him the apartment’s address, praying to find him there.

“Hello?”

“Jungwoo!” she forgot to speak formally in her haste. “Taewoon, is he with you? Have you seen him?”

“No. He should be filming _Show Me the Money_. Why? Is something wrong?”

Eun Mi choked a worried sob. “I’ll call you back.”

Jungwoo stared at Taeha’s phone in his hand, eyebrows drawn together. He handed it back. “She seemed to be in a hurry.”

Eun Mi was, indeed, in a hurry. A desperate, frightened hurry.

* * *

It took about thirty minutes after the phone call with Eun Mi for Zico to worry. It took five unanswered text messages and three rejected calls for him to grow nervous. It wasn’t until his mother called, asking if either of them would go home that he truly began to panic.

He called Kyung.

“What do you want?”

“Have you talked to my brother?”

“Not in a while. Why, what’s going on?”

Zico cursed, thinking. “You’re friends with Taeha, right?”

“Yeah. Do you need him?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll text you his number.”

Zico sighed with relief when Taeha answered; he’d been afraid that he would reject unknown calls.

“Hello?”

“Oh Taeha? This is Jiho, Taewoon’s brother.”

“Zico?”

“Yeah. Have you seen my hyung? Has he been by the company or the dorm?”

“I haven’t seen him, but maybe the other members know.”

While Taeha asked around, Zico grabbed his car keys; for once, he was glad to have made the long drive to HQ himself.

“Zico, no one has seen him. Jungwoo hyung is on his way to the company. He’ll check there.”

“Please—”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks.”

Zico grabbed the steering wheel, sitting there blankly. Aside from SPEED and Kyung, he didn’t know who to call or where to even begin looking for Taewoon. He had spent so much time focusing on himself that he had not paid close enough attention to him. How could he not know where to look?

It wasn’t Taeha that called him back, Jungwoo did.

“He’s not at the company. It looked like he and the CEO had an argument.”

“Do you know where he might be?”

Jungwoo paused. He seemed to be considering something before saying, “If he’s not at home, the dorm, or the company, I’m not sure where he could be.”

Zico thanked him, cursing brilliantly as he pounded on the steering wheel. How could he not know where to look for his missing brother? Instead of resenting him for things that had happened during their childhood, he should have been paying attention.

With a heavy heart, Zico realized that he was not a very good brother. Back when Block B had faced difficulties, Taewoon’s efforts to support and encourage him had been minimal. Zico also resented him for that. He had allowed that resentment to build up a wall between them.

Zico had not yet found a way to love his brother without resentment. He resented Taewoon just as much as he loved him.

He abruptly pulled the car to the shoulder of the road.

Taewoon begrudged him as well. Zico had become successful within four years of his debut while Taewoon continued to struggle. First with Co-Ed School and the vicious rumor that had ended them before they actually begun. Then with SPEED’s prolonged debut and spaced out comebacks. And now with SMTM.

Zico might have undergone several difficulties, but they could not compare with Taewoon’s continuous struggle.

The dark, nasty thoughts and feelings inside Zico had him wanting to run away. And, just like that, he knew where to find Taewoon.

* * *

A black plastic bag with two unopened bottles of soju rested on the kitchen counter. The presence of Taewoon’s shoes, mindlessly discarded by the front door, and his car keys beside the plastic bag eased the gripping fear in Eun Mi’s heart.

Not bothering to put her shoes away after kicking them off, she dashed inside, calling for Taewoon.

“Taewoon! Woo Taewoon!”

Moments later, his bedroom door opened. Taewoon emerged wearing sweats and drying his hair with the towel around his neck. Eun Mi launched herself at him, imprisoning him in a tight embrace. Taewoon took a step back to keep his balance.

“Whoa! Hey there, what’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be at home? Where’s Manager Jo? You didn’t ditch him did you?”

“Shut up! Is any of that important right now? Do you have any idea just how worried I’ve been? Where’s your phone? Why didn’t you answer it?”

Taewoon blinked. “My phone? I haven’t heard it ring. I guess I must have left it in the car.”

Eun Mi wanted to drop kick him. She wanted to strangle him. Instead, she took his face in her hands, kissing every inch of it. She kissed his forehead, his nose, his cheekbones, his eyes. She covered him with a hundred tender kisses and then held onto him again.

Taewoon placed his hand on the top of her head. He held on to her, swallowing the piercing lump in his throat, forcing it down. “How did you find out?”

“Zico.”

“What a snitch.”

“Were you not planning on telling me?”

Taewoon smiled, squeezing her against him. “Of course I was. But I had to meet with the CEO, first.”

It had not gone well. It had not gone well at all. Taewoon was not only out of the running to win SMTM, he was now, also, officially unemployed. The CEO had terminated his contract when he’d heard that he had not made it to the next round. Taewoon had left MBK Ent. for good this time.

He had stuck around for the sake of SPEED, stuck around hoping the company would manage them better. He’d stuck around in vain. Taewoon knew he should have left when the company failed to protect Co-Ed School against that vicious rumor. He should have left then; SPEED made him stay.

Now, even SPEED was in danger. The members themselves felt it. They could sense the end in the air. Sejun often spent much time thinking on his own. Jungwoo’s contract neared its end. Ki-O had been dropped from SPEED’s lineup in preparation for another group the company had queued up. Taewoon could do nothing to save or protect them. SPEED would end; more because of the members’ own decisions than the company officially disbanding them.

SPEED would be one of those groups that had appeared with promise and ended with not even a semblance of a whisper.

Taewoon had left MBK fully intending to get drunk off his ass. He had remembered Eun Mi, though, and decided that maybe a bottle of soju would do—maybe two. He couldn’t be drunk in case she might need him.

He had never expected her to find her way to him. He had not expected for her to find out on her own before he had gathered himself well enough to tell her. SMTM had been a great risk. Everything in the entertainment industry was a risk. Talent was not enough. An extreme amount of luck was needed.

Luck to meet the right people. Luck to make it into the right company, the right group. Luck to debut at the right time. Luck to be well-liked. Luck to not be involved in any scandals or controversies. Luck to survive.

Taewoon did not seem to have much luck at all.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s grab a drink.”

“You need to get your phone,” Eun Mi scolded. “Everyone is worried about you.”

Taewoon smiled, kissing her briefly. “Fine. But at least get the ramen ready while I’m gone.”

Eun Mi rolled her eyes, walking with him—more like hindering his walk since she had not yet let him go—to the front door. He ruffled her hair, kissed her again. She stared at the closed door, hurting for him until she remembered to call Manager Jo.

Somehow, by the grace of God no doubt, Eun Mi had had the foresight to let him know what was going on beforehand. He hadn’t been pleased. He, also, hadn’t been able to do anything since Eun Mi had already jumped ship and was heading to Taewoon.

“Two hours, Eun Mi, that’s all you’re getting. I swear you were not nearly this problematic before you met this kid.”

They knew he was lying. Eun Mi had always been causing him one sort of trouble or another. CELESTIAL was the main reason he had so many headaches. So, when he allowed things without much opposition, Eun Mi knew that he really had no issue allowing the girls to do what they’d asked.

Two hours were enough for soju and ramen. Two hours were enough to make sure Taewoon would remain safe and stay safe.

She set her phone on the kitchen counter, staring at it intently. She had mulled the insane idea over for what seemed like a million years. She’d never spoken of it out loud. Circumstances had been different when she had first thought of it. Eun Mi bit her lip, scooped her phone up, and forwarded a link to Taewoon.

The worst that could happen was that he would say no, that’s what Eun Mi told herself. But maybe, just maybe, it would hurt his feelings. She would have to handle that consequence if it came to pass. Somehow.

Eun Mi wondered if fighting with Taewoon would be anything like fighting with Zico. She had spent a lot of time with Taewoon, but she had yet to see him angry. The closest he had ever come to being so had been that night long ago inside St. Cecilia’s when Zico had first come into the conversation. She could not quite remember how Taewoon had behaved, only that it had been slightly unpleasant.

On the other hand, she could remember quite vividly how Zico acted whenever he was angry. He tended to make himself taller, somehow. Maybe he accomplished this by throwing his shoulders back, squaring his chest. Or maybe, Eun Mi became small.

Zico’s words held a very intimidating, very dark, very violent tone in them whenever he was angry. Eun Mi could handle him then. He never quite did say things that could hurt her. Zico’s anger was like those mean comments people left online; insubstantial and based off of misconceptions.

She could easily ignore him if that were all there was to it. In fact, Eun Mi would have happily gone on with her life even while knowing that Zico hated her if he would only not glare at her so.

Most people could not separate Taewoon from Zico. Taewoon was lost in his little brother’s essence, someone of little consequence. Not quite as talented, not quite invisible to escape criticism either.

Eun Mi, however, could not separate Zico from Taewoon. She could see Taewoon in Zico’s features, hear Taewoon’s voice coming from his lips. Maybe that is what made his glare so frightening.

Eun Mi feared that someday Taewoon would look at her the way Zico did. She feared Taewoon’s soft, kind eyes would turn icy or stone dead when he looked at her. If ever he did, if she ever lost him—

She took a slow, deep breath. She really should stop that train of thought before it derailed into an anxiety attack. She could not let herself think like that. This was not the time or place to fall apart.

The front door chimed, the lock sliding open.

“That was fast! I haven’t—”

She stopped. Froze. Nearly died of shock. Zico stood opposite her, the kitchen counter between them, glaring.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

* * *

It was a dream, a nightmare. Something so impossible could not be happening. Eun Mi backed up, clasping her trembling hands together.

Zico’s glare, having been absent for a while, returned at a greater, magnified force. She felt grateful that the counter stood between them.

Zico took a step forward. Eun Mi took a step back. Her hip bumped against the stove, its edge digging into her back. Seeing her retreat increased his anger.

“What the fuck are you doing here? How do you know of this place?”

“J-Jiho, c-calm down. Let’s—”

“Don’t act so familiar with me! How the hell do you know of this place? How did you get in?”

Eun Mi wanted to reply, wanted the words that she spoke to cool his temper. But she had no words and Zico’s temper burned hotter than the Earth’s core.

A few moments passed, tense, cackling with negative energy.

“I thought you had changed,” he said through gritted teeth. “I was willing to forgive you.”

“W-what?”

“How can you live with yourself? Do you get off on following people?”

Eun Mi wondered if she could run away from him fast enough. She could barricade herself in Taewoon’s room; would she last until Taewoon returned?

“I asked you a damned question!” Zico shouted.

Eun Mi’s hands flew to her ears. She cowered, squeezing her eyes shut, hiding behind the shield of her arms. Her nerves were still raw and sore from the week’s previous events. She could not push herself too hard; she could not _be pushed_ too hard.

Seeing her cower before him only fueled his already misplaced wrath. He stomped towards her, grabbed her wrist viciously.

That was his mistake.

Eun Mi, cornered and frightened, did the only thing she knew how to do when someone attacked her; she fought back. Back in Hanoi, she had not expected anyone to break through the security lines, so she had not been aware of her surroundings as well as she could be. She could not fight back then; she could now.

When she thought back on it, she could not remember exactly what she did. All she remembered was Zico’s painful grunt and the burning sensation that followed the absence of his tight grip. She stepped back into her fighting stance, her right fist raised before her, her left resting by her temple.

She had taken him greatly by surprise; Zico stood with her back to her, having had to spin himself around in order to keep his balance. He turned to look at her now, the back of his hand pressed against the corner of his mouth. Usually, the maneuver called for her to aim the heel of her hand to his nose; she’d redirected her aim to his mouth. She didn’t want to break the nose BBC’s were so fond of. They also liked his lips. Ah, well, they would heal faster.

“What the _fuck_?”

“Don’t come near me,” she warned with a slight quiver in her voice. “I _swear_ I will kick your ass if you do, Jiho.”

The pain on his lip burned through his anger. The spreading pain on his left side reminded him that he was standing before a woman that owned a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. It would not have been any less mortifying if he had been aware that she had just earned her second _dan_.

“Get out.”

“No.”

“Get the fuck out!”

Eun Mi’s stance became a shield. She could face him, his anger, and his glares so long as she firmly stood her ground.

“I’m not going anywhere. Believe it or not, _Zico_ ,” she spat his stage name at him, “I’m not here for you. So, I suggest you take deep breaths, calm down, and wait for Taewoon without trying anything stupid.”

Zico said, “My hyung? You’re here for my _hyung_?”

“Did you think I was here for you?”

He said nothing. Eun Mi blinked, confused as to why he would ever believe such a thing. Zico swallowed, tasting the blood that had pooled by his bitten cheek. “Why else would you be here?”

Eun Mi’s eyes snapped, fierce. Zico had never seen such darkness in them, such fierce cruelty. Zico was suddenly very much afraid of Eun Mi.

“I told you, I am here for Taewoon.”

“I can’t believe that. You don’t know him.”

“You want to know why I am here? I am here because the man I care about the most is here. I am here because I could not live with myself if I allowed him to spend this night alone.”

Zico’s heart jumped. Despite everything that continued to happen between them, despite the bad blood, hearing her say that made his heart race. His mind conjured up ideas, guided the scenario in a very unsuitable direction.

The front door chimed as someone punched in the passcode. Eun Mi crossed her arms. She didn’t do it as a way to hide, she did it with power and self-assurance. The dark cruelty in her eyes continued to rage. Zico shivered.

“Get off your high horse, Zico. I am here for _Taewoon_.”

The door opened, closed. Taewoon walked in.

* * *

Once, when they were children, Jiho had been cornered in an alley. They had just moved and the kids had mistaken the fierce shape and ambitious glow in Jiho’s eyes for defiant delinquency. The other kids usually thought that he was looking for a fight. For a time, he’d been forced to walk with his eyes down because of it.

That particular day, Taewoon had been asked to stay behind for a few minutes by his teacher. Jiho had started on his way home only to be pushed into that alley. Kyung had seen it happen from across the street and had run to fetch an adult. He’d found Taewoon instead.

Taewoon had pushed his way through the bodies, slammed them against each other, the ground, or the walls. Most of the kids had been older than Jiho by quite a few years. Some had even been older than Taewoon. He had taken a greater share of the punches aimed at his little brother.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Jiho had said. He’d gritted his teeth, fought back the tears quite handsomely. “Don’t ever stand between those that hate me and myself. I can stand on my own. I can pick my own fights. Don’t save me.”

And from that day onwards, Taewoon hadn’t. He’d let his kid brother make his way through life on his own. He let him face his own obstacles, fall, and watched him get back up again all while giving him a minimum amount of support.

They both remembered that memory quite differently though rather similarly. Just as they were warped images of each other, so was their recollection of the same memories warped.

Taewoon remembered what Jiho had said but not what he had replied. Jiho, on the other hand, remembered what Taewoon had replied but not what he had replied to.

Taewoon remembered “Don’t save me.” While Jiho recalled “Then learn to stand on your own.”

Somehow, that had built the foundation for their relationship. Jiho struggled to stand on his own while Taewoon watched from the sidelines. Jiho had been struggling to stand on his own for so long that now that he’d had the chance to look back at his brother to say “I saved myself,” he found that Taewoon had been in need of saving.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

Jiho could not be sure how many times Taewoon had watched from afar while hoping that he would turn around and offer him a helping hand, a word of comfort. They relied on one another—no, Jiho relied on Taewoon.

Jiho relied on Taewoon because Taewoon had always been there, because Taewoon would always be there. Because no matter how many times Jiho pushed Taewoon away or refused his help, his big brother would always push his way through countless bodies to save him.

But eventually, because brothers were meant to rely on one another, Taewoon had needed Jiho and Jiho had not been there.

Once with Co-Ed School. Twice with SPEED. Thrice with SMTM.

If Jiho bothered to do the math, he would find that he had failed Taewoon much more than what Taewoon had failed him.

Once. Twice. Thrice. And now a fourth.

Jiho had taken so much from his big brother; what had he given in return? Jealousy, rivalry, resentment.

Once with Co-Ed School. Twice with SPEED. Thrice with SMTM. And now a fourth time with Eun Mi.

He had refused to believe that she could have meant what she said. Even when Taewoon walked in, he expected him to appear puzzled, confused as to why she stood in their kitchen.

Taewoon had not been surprised by Eun Mi’s presence. He had been surprised by Jiho’s.

If they had been children, Taewoon would have checked on Zico’s bruising lip. He would have found the first-aid kit and done his best not to hurt his kid brother while he tried to heal him. Jiho would have complained. Taewoon would have ignored him.

Taewoon ignored him, though it was now for entirely different reasons. He’d given Jiho a once over before making his way to Eun Mi.

He stood before her, taking her arms in his hands ever so gently. He leaned in, his eyes on hers then on her face, then on the rest of her body. It took Jiho several moments to realize that Taewoon was checking for wounds.

“Hyung,” he choked out.

Taewoon didn’t hear him. “Are you alright? How are you feeling? Eun Mi.”

Jiho understood that what Taewoon actually meant to say was “Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay,” Eun Mi replied. “I think I was a little mean, though.”

Jiho turned away briefly. When he looked back at them, he realized just how wrong he had been. How very, very, very long.

Taewoon had cupped Eun Mi’s face. They gazed at each other with such steadiness that the world seemed to slow down; it paused, held its breath, all just for them. Nothing could come between them; there existed no space through which anyone could crawl through.

Jiho was losing something. He could feel it.

* * *

The creation of Zico had come about from his stay in Japan. He’d gotten the idea from the manner in which girls affectionately addressed others. He had made something powerful out of something tender.

Zico was his stage name; his tower, his shield. When he was Zico, nothing could touch him. No one could hurt him. As Zico, he could cause a thousand problems, break a million rules, hurt a billion people. He could make and unmake anything and everything as Zico. He could ignore the truth, mold it, reshape it as he pleased. He could stand in the spotlight, receive praises, criticisms. He could embrace fame and relish in it.

As Jiho, he was simply a frightened, insecure, little boy that could not forget the times he’d been singled out due to his eyes. He could not forget his older brother’s words: “Stand on your own.” As Jiho he couldn’t forget how much he needed his brother. He could not remember why he had ever drawn away. He could not figure out how to get him back. As Jiho, he hated to hurt others. He stayed up late thinking about what his life meant, where this road he walked would lead him to.

As Zico, he lost Jiho. He lost Jiho to the burning anger. As Jiho, he lost Zico. He lost Zico to the piercing pain.

He had lost. He was losing. He would continue to lose. And it was all Zico’s fault.


	27. Hand Grenades

The thing about being a leader is that when you’re unsure of what to do, when you’re faced with a situation you’ve never experienced before, you have to figure it out on your own. As a leader, you become the pillar, the foundation, and the guide. Responsibility increased, so did the solitude.

So, when you placed three leaders in the same room and had them face the same new, unknown situation, all that resulted was thoughtful silence. Or, two of the three would choose one to guide them. In this case, Taewoon won out. Though he could hardly consider it winning.

They sat on the living room floor in a loose circle. Energy cackled between Eun Mi and Zico; they both sat with their legs crossed underneath them, their arms pressed tightly across their chests. Taewoon noted that they both leaned away from each other, their noses upturned, a fierce pressure on their lips.

Taewoon rubbed his palms together then pressed his fingers over his knuckles. He kept his eyes on them a moment longer before focusing on the puffy, swirly material of the rug.

He knew he could not let them go. Taewoon had never imagined that he would be the chain that joined two individuals that did not, under any circumstances wish to be linked together.

Eun Mi’s fear had vanished almost inexplicably. Something had happened in the fifteen minutes that he had been gone that had absolutely changed her manner of regarding Zico. She’d appeared fragile before, now she radiated steady, heated defiance that mingled with disdain.

Zico had closed himself off as he often did when faced with a situation he did not want to handle. Taewoon had not seen him reject anything so entirely, forcefully since he’d been a teenager. Occasionally, he would press his finger to the lump on his lips, glaring at the small spot of blood.

For some reason, this reminded Taewoon of the single time that Sungmin and Jongkook had gotten into a massive argument. They say that men solve their differences with their fists, but Taewoon found that to be a load of bullshit. Sungmin and Jongkook would have killed one another if Taewoon and Yuhwan had not pried them off each other.

The managers had instructed them to leave them be. They really didn’t care whether the members got along or not so long as they pretended to be the best of friends on screen. But the members cared. Taewoon had placed them both in the same room to _talk_ it out.

The problem with Zico and Eun Mi was that they didn’t talk—at all. Eun Mi had stayed clear of him from the very beginning. She would not even bring him up around Taewoon, more for her sake than his.

Zico, on the other hand, had been the one to initiate this absurd lack of communication. For some godforsaken reason, he abhorred Eun Mi just as much as he liked her. It made no sense to Taewoon. He was certain that it made even less sense to Zico.

Taewoon had no way of understanding how this change in his kid brother had come about. Just a few nights ago he had been willing to try and patch things up with Eun Mi. He’d taken a step forward and five back.

“Okay,” Taewoon finally said, rubbing his hands. “Okay, this is what’s going to happen. You two will talk.”

“I have nothing to—” Zico began.

“That’s a lie,” Taewoon stopped him. Their eyes met. Zico eventually lowered his gaze. Taewoon continued, shifting his gaze to Eun Mi. “You need to talk. There is no way you will clear up whatever misunderstandings you have without talking.”

“I’m not the one that started this,” Eun Mi objected.

“No, but you have kept it going.”

Neither of them liked to be scolded. They were so used to scolding that receiving it felt foreign to them. Eun Mi, especially, seemed to be resisting. She gnawed on her lower lip, her eyes upturned to the ceiling. Taewoon had never seen such petulant attitude from her.

Zico continued to mess with his bruising lip.

“Either you talk or you leave.”

Eun Mi smirked, glaring at Zico. Taewoon winced as he said, “That includes you, too, Eun Mi.”

“What? But why?”

“Stop whining,” Zico snapped. “Your voice grates on my ears.”

Eun Mi whirled around, greatly offended by his words. She opened her mouth, a deadly comment clearly aimed at him. Taewoon intervened, fearing that things would reach nuclear levels much too quickly.

He raised his hand. She stopped, turning her wide, hurt and furious eyes at him. Taewoon hated seeing her in such distress. He longed to reach out and touch her, to place his hand on her knee or reach to pull her into his chest.

“If you’re going to do this, you have to be respectful. No cursing, no offensive comments. If you have any objections, the door is right there. Feel free to leave whenever you please.”

They couldn’t leave. Eun Mi refused to leave; she had come here for Taewoon, she would stay for Taewoon. Zico would really much rather be as far away from her as possible. Leaving meant conceding to Eun Mi; he could not do that.

“Do we have an agreement?”

Eun Mi pursed her lips, nodding. Zico scoffed but remained seated.

Taewoon exhaled gently, crossing his arms, resting his back against the sofa. He had gotten them to agree, he could not begin the conversation for them. One of them had to be the bigger person.

Taewoon suspected that Eun Mi would be the first to talk. She might be fragile, but she scraped up courage from the depths of her being to face the problems she feared the most. And God only knew how afraid she had been of Zico.

Taewoon waited. No one spoke.

* * *

Eun Mi hated this situation. She hated having to be forced to talk to Zico because she knew that there would be no _talking_ to Zico. He had a nasty temper, a nastier mouth.

But Taewoon was waiting.

She could not begin to imagine what Taewoon could be feeling. Having his little brother and his girlfriend at each other’s throats could not be anything but unpleasant. If he were forced to choose between Zico and Eun Mi—she couldn’t think of that. She could not allow that to happen. She would lose.

Eun Mi swallowed. Once. Twice. “Why do you hate me?”

The question hung in the air like ice stalactites, threatening to crack, to mortally wound.

* * *

See, the thing about hate is that it’s not really as complicated as appears to be. There are two kinds of hatred: 1) the kind that begins to cauterize a wound, and 2) the one that just _is_.

The first kind is more of a self-defense mechanism than anything else. Someone you loved or trusted eventually did something that you never expected them to do. It hurts, but instead of letting anyone else know that they hurt you, you hide behind ill feelings. You hope that karma will get them, that they will regret it, that you will be vindicated by some sort of divine justice. At least, that is what you tell yourself and others. All the while you really don’t mean it. You’re just hoping that they will apologize for hurting you. Eventually, with time, you do forgive them and you do forget.

The second kind really has no sort of explanation. A lot of people will say that you don’t _really_ hate someone when, in fact, you actually really _do_. It’s simple: you see that person, you’re filled with this unbearable feeling of anger. It’s poisonous to you but there is no way for you to get rid of it. Your stomach hurts from the sheer force of the emotion and while you may try to not wish them any _serious_ harm, you do genuinely hope that they will _get the fuck away_ from you. Some say that what you hate in someone is what you hate about yourself, but honestly, that’s just a bunch of bullshit. You just flat out hate them without there being any good reason to.

Hate really isn’t all that complicated. Until you experience it because, just like any other human emotion, it twined and conjoined, grew and decayed, spread and put down roots. Still, despite these complications, it was a extremely recognizable feeling.

Inside a confused heart like Zico’s, however, a muddled and clouded sentiment could very easily be mistaken for hatred. As was the case with his feelings towards Song Eun Mi.

Did Zico hate Eun Mi?

Yes.

No.

He wasn’t sure.

* * *

“Why do you hate me?”

Zico faced Eun Mi, staring right into those wide eyes of hers. Without any make up on, he could see the soft beauty mark on her left cheekbone, not quite underneath her eye but not too far off. He’d never noticed it before.

“Because.”

His answer really didn’t answer anything.

“Fair enough.”

Eun Mi turned away, taking her hair in her hands, combing her fingers through it. Her body language told him—actually, it screamed at him—that she was absolutely and utterly done with his behavior.

“Fair enough? Fair enough? How is any of this fair at all?”

“You don’t have a reason to hate me.”

She said it as if she were used to it. Zico wondered if she had been truly hated before. He also wondered if she’d told Taewoon about it, maybe during one of their late night phone calls.

“But I _do_ have a reason to hate you. I have a very valid reason to hate people like you.”

Was he grasping at straws? He could be wrong. Maybe. Was his memory faulty? Zico couldn’t tell.

“Please, do share with the classroom Mr. ZI-A-CO.”

“Eun Mi,” Taewoon warned, cautioning her against her rising voice and snarky remark. She huffed, crossing her arms once more, sulking.

Zico watched them, sensed the tranquil aura that surrounded Taewoon and Eun Mi. It, in no way, did it compare to the shaky, tremulous heat that existed between them. They were always fighting. Why were they always fighting? Why did she have to be in this place? Why did she have to ruin everything before he got the chance to apologize?

“What are you even doing here?” he snapped.

“I’m here for Taewoon.”

“Sure you are.”

Eun Mi turned around so fast, Zico flinched. Taewoon didn’t move an inch. He sat with his hands clasped on his lap, a deep furrow on his brow.

“You keep Taewoon out of this,” Eun Mi said.

“You’re the one that brought him into this first. Do you seriously expect me to believe that you’re here for _Taewoon_?”

He was losing ground. Jiho retreated, hiding. Zico emerged, hackles raised, looking for a fight, and ready for it.

“Would I be here for you?”

“Of course.”

Eun Mi’s jaw dropped. She could not believe what she was hearing. She knew it would be difficult to have any sort of civil conversation with Zico. The tiniest shred of hope she’d managed to hold onto until now vanished.

“What a load of bull crap! I don’t even like you! You’re annoying and presumptuous. Just because you made some sort of headway as a rapper you thing you’re so great! You’re drunk on fame. You’re a pathetic narcissist.”

Taewoon didn’t call her out on her insults. Jiho winced, whimpered. Zico’s anger grew and grew and grew.

“What reason would you have to get close to my brother? None. You’re only sticking around him because he’s my hyung. Stop playing with him. It’s disgusting to see you try so hard to approach me.”

She recoiled, shocked.

Jiho was losing.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Eun Mi said after a pause, her voice soft. “You really shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Shouldn’t say what? The truth? We all know those were your real intentions.”

“Stop.”

“Are you afraid that he will find out just what kind of person you really are? Afraid that he’ll realize how you’ve used him only to get to Zico?”

“Woo Jiho!”

Jiho wasn’t there. Jiho was gone.

“No one pays attention to my brother! He’s so dense and insecure that he can’t even succeed in getting people to remember his name! Who is Woo Taewoon? Zico’s hyung, that’s who! It’s what he’s known as. It’s who he is. Why should I believe that you know him as anything else? It’s the stupidest thing I have ever—”

Zico stopped. The look of inhuman pain on Taewoon’s face made him realize what a horrible mistake he had just made.

Jiho lost. Zico destroyed.

* * *

Ever since they had been children, Zico and Taewoon had been the best of rivals. Taewoon could not remember a time when they were not competing for or over something whether of great consequence or not. Brotherly competition was fun. They learned, grew, all for the sake of being the best. Sibling rivalry could accomplish great things.

But Taewoon was tired.

Tired of having to swim against the current that was Zico. Tired of having to prove his worth by somehow becoming better than him. Tired of living in a shadow. Tired of trying to claw his way out.

They were brothers. They were alike while being different. They were each other while being themselves. They were warped images of one another, reflecting mirrors. Watching and listening to Zico, Taewoon came to realize that he was acting as just that, a mirror.

Zico—and the entire world for that matter—believed him to be less because Taewoon himself believed he was less.

He saw himself as lacking talent, luck, strength, support. What he really lacked what solid, true confidence.

It was Taewoon that believed he lacked talent. Taewoon who shriveled up and doubted himself. Taewoon, Taewoon, Taewoon. He was the reason everyone saw him as a nobody. It was all Taewoon.

The world only saw him as a loser because Taewoon saw himself that way.

Zico sat with his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide, terrified. “H-hyung, I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up,” Eun Mi said.

She didn’t snap at him. She said it in her smooth, gem-like voice, which made it all the worse.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Zico begged.

Taewoon said nothing. What could he say?

* * *

Eun Mi watched as Taewoon’s strength faded away. The last of his reserves had built a flimsy tower that was now collapsing quickly. His eyes began to lose their playful, innocent shine.

Fear swirled around her, suffocating her. Something in Taewoon was dying. She could not let that happen.

She didn’t know quite what to do, life hadn’t exactly prepared her for this kind of situation, so she did the only thing she could think of: she climbed onto his lap, held his face in her hands, looked straight in his eyes, and told him all the reasons why she loved him.

* * *

Eun Mi was speaking Spanish.

It took Taewoon quite a long time to realize that was why he could not understand her. Whatever she was telling him, clearly Korean failed to convey it. He could not decipher her words, but he could feel their urgency, their sincerity and truth.

They made his skin prickle; had the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

She caressed his cheeks, pressed her forehead against his. Her lips moved frantically. Sometimes, they were close enough to his to brush them softly. Her words ate him, swallowed him whole. They drew him in, hypnotized him.

They built him up.

He didn’t know Spanish, but he could still decode her message.

Taewoon I love you. Taewoon you’re the most amazing, kindest man I know. Taewoon, Woo Taewoon listen only to me. What I say, what I think, that is the only thing that matters. Taewoon, Woo Taewoon, you’re the one I want to be with. I love you. I love you.

What she saw him him—no, how she saw him, differentiated so much from what the rest of the world believed. Song Eun Mi had made up her own opinion of him and she would stick by it no matter what happened.

Zico was his mirror. Eun Mi had seen through the looking glass.

He had to build himself up. He had to stand. He _had_ to.

* * *

It hurt. It hurt terribly, but it lacked bitterness. With Eun Mi gazing at him so intently, her eyes desperate, frightened, full of profound emotions, and her hands ever so gently on his cheeks, Taewoon found it easier to let the hurt slip right through him. 

It left a sting. It wasn’t a bitter sting, just an ache.

The fierce, upbeat sound of SHINee’s _Sherlock_ startled them all out of their bodies. Zico’s skin broke out in gooseflesh. Eun Mi yelped. Taewoon’s heart rate increased.

For a moment, the tension between them dissipated as they exchanged looks and shaky laughs. Eun Mi untangled herself from Taewoon’s arms as she said, “That’s Manager Jo.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Taewoon said.

Eun Mi answered as Taewoon gathered up her things. They settled into a smooth rhythm, communicating with slight gestures and their eyes. Zico watched them carefully, amazed.

Eun Mi couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. That wasn’t the kind of person she was. She also couldn’t be perky or happy around him either. Dealing with Zico had become a lot harder in just a couple of hours.

“Be nice to Taewoon,” she ended up saying. Zico could interpret it as he pleased; as a threat or a command or as a farewell. Eun Mi really didn’t quite care which so long as he listened. He nodded. She didn’t see, Taewoon had blocked her view.

At the door, he took her face in his hands, kissing her ever so gently, ever so deeply. He combed her hair with his fingers, taking her in, admiring and loving her.

“Be safe out there.”

“Be safe in here.”

Taewoon smiled ruefully. “He’s my kid brother. What harm could he do?”

Eun Mi knew Zico could cause a lot of harm if he set his mind to it. She also knew that she and Zico still had unresolved business. Taewoon knew it too.

He opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and kissed her one last time. “Go. I’ll text you later.”

Eun Mi bit her lip, nodded. She hugged him tightly then disappeared with the sturdy shut of the door.

Taewoon inhaled. Held it. Exhaled.

“Be strong, Woo Taewoon,” he whispered. “Be strong. Be wise. Be kind.”

He turned.

Zico sat right where they had left him. His head hung low, his hands were clasped loosely on his lap. When he raised his head, Taewoon didn’t see Block B’s charismatic leader or hip hop’s great Zico. He saw his little brother, Jiho.

“Hyung.”

Taewoon’s heart lurched.

“Hyung.”

He sat beside him, placing a protective arm around him. “It’s alright, Jiho. Hyung’s here.”

Zico let his head fall on Taewoon’s shoulder, his body trembling. Tears dripped onto his thigh, creating tiny, wet circles.

“Hyung’s here.”

Zico sobbed harder. 


	28. Paper Thoughts

“Here, drink this.”

“What is it?”

“Something to calm you down.”

Zico brought the teacup up to his nose, sniffing. “What is it?”

Taewoon rolled his eyes. He took the little, blue slip of paper from beside the kettle and read. “It says here that it is Valerian Root tea with a hint of lavender and chamomile. If it tastes disgusting, don’t blame me.”

Zico laughed. “I didn’t know you were into teas.”

“I’m not. Eun Mi is.”

She had to be. She tried her best to stay away from the heaviest medications; teas helped her anxiety. Taewoon looked at her handwriting on the slip of paper. Even in a hurry her Hangeul seemed tidy. To any Korean it would be apparent that a foreigner had written it. No one managed to keep such tidy handwriting for long. She tried really hard to be understood, even after so many years.

He ran his thumb across the ink, feeling the pressure of her hand on the back. How had she had the foresight to write this down? Taewoon supposed that she had been around Zico long enough to familiarize herself with his emotional state. Maybe.

“She’s a thoughtful girl,” Zico muttered. He blew into the cup, sipped. “Holy shit, that’s hot!”

“Careful.”

“Couldn’t you have told me earlier?”

“It’s steaming and you still want a warning? Hold on, let me go over to Starbucks and get you one of those slips.”

“What slips?”

“The ‘Caution! Contents May Be Hot’ slips.”

“Asshole.”

“Dumbass.”

Zico accepted the teaspoon Taewoon offered him as well as the small milk carton. He cooled his tea. Taewoon watched him, stopping him suddenly.

“The point is to have tea with milk, not milk with tea.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Zico’s mouth. He drank in silence. Taewoon moved around the apartment, opening and closing drawers. He filled a bowl with cold water, placing some ice cubes in it to keep it cold.

“What are you doing?”

“For your eyes. If we don’t do this, they’ll stay swollen. You have work tomorrow.”

“Hyung, what the fuck?”

Taewoon cast him a glance that said _Eun Mi_. And that said so much more.

It said that she worried about Zico. That despite how things were between them, she could not ignore the fact that he was precious to Taewoon. It said that Zico could be a jerk, a complete asshole, and Eun Mi would still care about him, because Taewoon cared for him and she cared about Taewoon. It said that she wished to spread comfort, not discomfort.

It said Zico was wrong.

He cleared his throat. “So, hyung, uh, you and Song Eun Mi are dating?”

“We’re together.”

_We’re together_.

_Together_ seemed to carry a lot more weight than _dating_. Dating was casual, something that started with an end in sight. Dating stood for the occasional: meeting every once in a while, sharing a meal here and there. Dating meant getting caught by the media, denying everything, or allowing the company to release an “official” statement.

Together was solid, a union, an alliance. Together symbolized a lifetime: late night conversations, early morning smiles, warm embraces. Together meant commitment with no end, a synchronized dance of personalities. Together meant that it did not matter what the world believed, only what they believed of one another.

_Together_.

“Sin-,” Zico cleared his throat. “Since when?”

Taewoon swirled the towel around in the cold water. “Sometime in April? March?”

“Did you ask her? Or did she ask you?”

Zico watched him blink slowly. He tilted his head upward, contemplating. When he turned to face him, he wore his silliest grin, the kind that told Zico his happiness overflowed; it crinkled his eyes, twisted his face into a lopsided sign of abundant joy.

“No one asked anyone. We just…got together. It just sort of happened.”

_Together_.

Zico finished his tea. Already, he felt its calming effects. He followed Taewoon into the living room. He plopped down on the sofa, resting his head on Taewoon’s lap. He set the ice cold bowl on Zico’s stomach, ordering him to hold onto it tightly.

“Does this even work?”

“It does. I saw Eun Mi do this once to Chorong.”

“What? Hyung!”

“Shut up and stay still!” Taewoon dropped the freezing towel on Zico’s eyes. “You don’t want the guys asking what made your eyes swell so much.”

Zico shut up and lay still. His memory prickled with recollections of his older brother watching out for him; cleaning up a scraped knee, bandaging up a sprained wrist. He wondered why those memories were only just now surfacing, wondered why he had not brought them up during _4Things Show_ when they interviewed him about his family. Taewoon had really, honestly praised him. What had he done? Complained about how their mother had favored him as a child.

It was all that God damned resentment.

“Hyung?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t apologize.”

“You don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.”

“Well, whatever it is, don’t. I don’t need or want your apologies, Jiho-ah.”

Zico detected the tightness in his voice, the crystalline fragility. He could not have chosen the worst time to apologize for being such an ungrateful little brother. Whatever he said, Taewoon would only interpret as pity. Pity for being unable to make it onto the next round, pity that his life had turned so complicated and upside down. Pity pity pity.

Zico said nothing.

* * *

The following morning, Eun Mi woke up early, drank a hot cup of tea, showered, and left to the company in the company of CELESTIAL. The drive was longer than usual as they were staying in a hotel while new living arrangements were made. Their things had already been packed up and were waiting for a new home. CEO Choi, they heard, would not rest until they found the safest place.

On the way, Eun Mi sat up front, a spot she usually allowed the girls to rotate in and out of. When the girls saw her head for the front, they instantly knew that something was on her mind. Eun Mi never isolated herself from them; seeing her sitting so quietly up front, with her teeth biting her carefully manicured nails made them worry.

Manager Jo noticed how her hands trembled. Chae and ReNA tried to liven up the mood. DAEE sat quietly behind their leader, playing with Eun Mi’s long hair, gently massaging her scalp. If Eun Mi felt her hair being combed, she gave no sign of acknowledgement. Ienna, on the other hand, went right for the heart of the matter.

“Unnie, you’re biting your nails again. That’s gross.”

Startled, Eun Mi drew her nails away from their fierce enemy. She clasped her hands on her lap. Ienna tossed her hair over her shoulder, leaning forward as much as her seatbelt would allow her too. (Eun Mi would not allow Manager Jo to drive if they weren’t all wearing their seatbelts.)

“Unnie, did you break up with Taewoon?”

She whirled around so fast, she scared Manager Jo. “No! Ienna don’t ever say that!”

“Did you have a fight with Zee-Yah-Co?” she rolled her eyes as she said his name. “Was he being an asshat again?”

“Ienna, he’s older and a sunbae.”

“He’s not older than you, unnie! What did he do now? Do I need to teach him a lesson? I’ll beat him up, unnie, I swear I will.”

“Don’t swear, Ienna. Honestly, why are your reactions always so explosively American-like? Are you watching American shows?”

Ienna pouted, her doll-like face contrasting her fierce attitude. “You’re not yourself today. We’re all worried.”

Eun Mi sighed. She couldn’t tell them. What had happened had been between Taewoon and Zico. She wasn’t even sure she should have been a part of it herself. Taewoon had called her an hour or two after she’d left. He didn’t bring Zico up. Eun Mi didn’t ask.

He didn’t bring up what she had asked him about, either. The message sat in their Kakao Talk chat unread. She wished she could take it back, but deleting it from her side of the chat didn’t delete it from his.

Taewoon had so much to deal with. She shouldn’t inconvenience him.

“I’m,” she paused. “I’m just worried about Taewoon.”

DAEE sat up, her eyes narrowed. “Was he eliminated? Did he not make it into a team?”

“What are you talking about?” ReNA asked. “Eliminated from what?”

“ _Show Me the Money 4_ ,” DAEE replied. “Unnie, did he?”

Eun Mi sighed, nodding. “I’m just worried for him, is all.”

Ienna watched her carefully, eyes intent. She didn’t and did believe her. “Isn’t Zico his _dongsaeng_? Why didn’t he give him a second chance?”

“Because that show is crap,” DAEE hissed. “They’re full of shit. The judges and the production crew. Everything you see is either scripted or blown out of proportion by their editing. I hate that show. They wouldn’t even refer to Taewoon _sunbaenim_ by his name! They had him captioned as ‘Zico’s hyung’ the entire time! I was so proud and happy when Jay Park _sunbaenim_ told the other judges not to call him ‘Zico’s hyung.’ His cypher was the best one. If they eliminated him after that, then it was definitely rigged. Which team did he choose?”

Eun Mi blinked at her. “V-Verbal Jint’s?”

“Man! You’re telling me that he chose the team with San E? Out of all the teams he chose that one? Who did they choose over him? Do you know?”

“B-Blacknut? I think that’s his name? I’m not sure.”

“What?! Oh my GAWD!” DAEE buried her hands in her hair and pulled. “Are you kidding me right now? Did they seriously choose someone as volatile as him over Taewoon _sunbaenim_? What were they thinking? That stupid show!”

The girls sat in shock, listening to DAEE’s tirade. Eun Mi was touched that DAEE knew much of Taewoon. She hadn’t said much when she’d first brought him up. Now, she had a lot to say.

As a rapper, DAEE knew more about the culture of hip hop than any of them did, especially Eun Mi. Just because she could imitate rappers didn’t mean she knew anything about rapping. And DAEE said that was the problem.

Idol rappers were criticized because they were trained to rap by a company. They didn’t _decide_ to do it, they were _told_ to. While some were still talented and meant to succeed as hip hop artists, the truth was the industry was not ready for it just quite yet. The culture of hip hop was a cutthroat world that, at its most raw, would be appalling to the general public.

By the time they arrived at the company, their heads swam with information about hip hop and rapping and rap history and rappers that made a difference and—what had they just heard? Ienna was the first to jump ship.

“DAEE unnie, you never talk but when you do, you give us a hip hop overload.” If she had not been forced to wear fluffy slippers due to the stitches on her feet, Ienna would have bolted out of the car. Unfortunately, she had to wait for Chae to help her out.

“It just makes me so angry sometimes.”

ReNA raised her eyebrows. “Does this mean that you’ll never try to appear in _Unpretty Rapstar_?”

“No way! I’ll prove my worth as CELESTIAL’s rapper! I don’t need any of that crap. If I can’t do it with CELESTIAL, I can’t do it at all!”

Chae grinned, threw her arms around DAEE’s neck, and rubbed their cheeks together. “Aw, you’re so sweet! But at least put out a mixtape? Is that what they’re called?”

DAEE groaned, exasperated with the lot of them. “Yes, unnie, it’s called a mixtape.”

Somehow, having someone be as angry for Taewoon as she was made Eun Mi feel better. She wrapped her arm around DAEE’s waist, swaying along with her as they entered the building. When the receptionist greeted them, Manager Jo made them laugh by exaggerating the punishment that was driving a bunch of crazy girls around.

“I must have betrayed a nation in some past life!”

“No,” Ienna sang, “you definitely saved it! I mean, you are stuck, I mean blessed! With us!”

Manager Jo cast the receptionist a desperate look. “Help me.”

They laughed until their stomachs hurt.

* * *

Feeling better but not entirely herself, Eun Mi headed down to the fourth level basement after lunch. She had about two hours to spare before her vocal lessons, she figured she could go see what the trainees were up to and how they were doing.

Memories of her years as a trainee, every single day, resurfaced. Her mind, flooded, swirled with images of years past. Suddenly, she found herself thinking of that one trainee she had never gotten along with.

For the longest time, Eun Mi had stood by her silence, refusing to say why that girl had hated her so much. It was perhaps one of the few lies Eun Mi had ever told to herself and others.

She knew why she had been hated. She knew that girl had actually really admired her until the moment she’d learned that Eun Mi had no dreams.

Back then, Eun Mi had been going through the motions. If they told her to practice, she practiced. If they told her to lose weight, she did. They told her to aim for debut, so she did. Through mediocre efforts, Eun Mi had passed each monthly evaluation. She rose through the trainee ranks unsure of what she wanted to do with her life.

Mediocre. All of her attempts had been mediocre. It had taken a fall down the stairs to make her realize that she could be stealing someone’s dreams and hopes.

“If you’re going to be a thief,” Aunt Minha had told her, “be a damn good one. Be the best.”

And so Eun Mi had given her training her undivided attention, her full efforts. She had stolen someone’s dream. Being an idol, it had never felt right. That dream had not been hers. It belonged to someone else.

She thought of Taewoon, of his efforts and his struggles. He wanted so much to be acknowledged for his talent that he submitted himself to the most difficult of trials. The little she knew about hip hop was enough to make her nervous.

A cutthroat world full of disses and hurtful words, sex, and the degrading of women. Eun Mi could never survive such an environment. She wondered how or why Taewoon would submit himself to that. She wondered just how far he went in certain areas. It made her uncomfortable, so she didn’t think about it much. All she knew was that it mattered to Taewoon.

Becoming a recognized artist and rapper was Taewoon’s dream. It was something he wanted, something he really, really wanted. Eun Mi would support and encourage him because that’s what she wanted to do. She wanted Taewoon to feel supported and encouraged.

He had talent, he had passion.

Right then, Eun Mi felt she lacked both, especially passion. She wondered if she should have become an idol. She wondered if she should have become such a great thief.

Where would she be now if she had not debuted? Most definitely she would have remained in Seoul for a few more years or maybe she would have moved back to America, gone to an actual college, made friends, and met up with study groups instead of doing it all on her own through an online college the way she had.

One thing she knew for sure: she would not have to deal with Zico. Or the anti-fan. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be so anxious all the time. Maybe.

With everything that was going on with Taewoon, Zico, and the anti-fan, Eun Mi felt very…shaky.

Her hands had not stopped trembling since she had left Taewoon’s side. She wanted to—what did she want? What did she even feel?

As she walked around, she spotted a trainee slumped against the corner of a practice booth. She could not have been older than eighteen. Her hair looked as if she had not combed it in a few days. Acne spread across her cheeks and forehead. In her hands, she held a paper packet with clear signs of wear.

She had fallen asleep while practicing.

Worried that her neck would hurt from being forced into such an uncomfortable position, Eun Mi allowed herself into the cramped area. She shook the girl’s shoulder carefully.

She roused, greatly startled. “I wasn’t slacking off, Ms. Kim, I promise!”

Eun Mi smiled. “Sleeping and slacking off are two very different things if you ask me.”

The girl blinked, gathering her bearings. She recognized Eun Mi eventually, her eyes growing wide. “Eun Mi _sunbaenim_!”

The girl jumped to her feet, scattering her papers, bowing and bowing and bowing. Eun Mi bowed in return, laughed, and gather up her papers for her. She paused, looking over her annotated work.

“Say,” Eun Mi whispered, “what’s your name? I haven’t seen you around before. Did you just start training with us?”

The girl’s eyes widened. She fussed with her hair, pushing it out of her face multiple times. “Na-Nari. Jeon Nari! I-I just started training here two weeks ago.”

“Jeon Nari. That’s a really pretty name.”

Nari beamed. “S-sunbaenim! I’m a huge fan!” She bowed again.

Eun Mi smiled, thanking her. She held up her papers, her eyebrows raised. “Did you pick this song, Nari-ah?”

She blushed at the affectionate way in which Eun Mi spoke to her, as if she were a precious little sister and not a pesky trainee with an undetermined future.

“Y-yes! I’m working really hard to be able to perform it during the monthly evaluation.”

“It’s a challenging song. Do you know what it means?”

Nari bit her lip. “T-that’s why I’m translating it as much as I can.”

Eun Mi read over her notes, smiling. “I used to do the same thing. I would translate so many songs before singing them. I really like this song, too. I sang it once.”

“R-really?”

“Kain played the piano. I think we did it for a monthly evaluation? I can’t quite remember, but I know we both sang it as trainees.” She paused then laughed. “I can’t remember! I’ll have to ask him.”

“I-I didn’t know that! I wish I could have heard it.”

Laughing, Eun Mi handed her papers back. “We weren’t nearly as good as we are now. I’m sure they scolded us greatly that day.”

A rap on the door made them both turn. Kain stood just outside, looking slightly annoyed. Eun Mi tilted her head, questioning.

“Noona, why aren’t you answering your phone? I’ve been looking for you.”

Eun Mi fished her phone out of her pocket, checking. “Oops, it was on vibrate. I didn’t hear it, sorry. What do you need me for?”

“Lesson.”

She gasped. “Oh my gosh! Nari, I’m so sorry but I, no, we have to run!”

“A-ah, y-yeah! Okay, bye!”

Eun Mi gave her the kindest smile she was capable of giving. Nari’s heart melted into a puddle at her feet. Kain leaned against the door, seemingly indifferent.

“What where you doing all the way down there?” he asked her once they were in the elevator.

“I was just thinking.”

“About whether you should have become an idol?”

Eun Mi cast him a sidelong glance. Kain, aside from Su Jong, was one of her most trusted confidants. Their situations were different, but they understood what it was like to be foreigners among friends.

“How did you know?”

“Because I’ve wondered that, too.”

“What do you think?”

Kain leaned against the elevator’s wall, his hands in his pockets. He stared at the small numbers change. “I don’t know.”

The elevator dinged. The doors opened.

“Yeah. Me either.”

They went to their lesson.

* * *

Taewoon slept in.

Taewoon slept in and in and in. The hours that he had lost while practicing, preparing, were being cashed in. He had no manager to wake him up for a schedule. He had no lessons to attend. He didn’t even have the rest of SPEED to crash in and wrestle him awake.

He woke up a little past one o’clock, feeling rested but sad. Without checking his phone, he headed to the shower. He could hear Zico moving around the apartment.

Taewoon tried not to think. He tried not to think about the fact that he was unemployed or that he had been eliminated from _SMTM_. He tried not to think about anything that he could not immediately solve, which, at the moment, was the entirety of his life.

He stayed under the running water until it turned cold. He then wrapped a towel around his waist, brushing his teeth as he gazed vacantly at his reflection in the fogged up mirror. Eventually, with his toothbrush poking at his cheek, he took his cellphone in hand, powering it up.

There, water dripping from his hair, running down his calves onto the floor, he read Eun Mi’s message. Stunned. Taewoon was stunned.

He rushed into the bathroom, spitting the mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. He cursed as he walked into the corner of his dresser. It clattered loudly enough to bring Zico into his room.

“Hyung! What was that?”

“Hey, what time is it now?” Taewoon asked as he rushed about looking for things. He wondered if he had enough clothes even when he so clearly did not.

“What?”

“Time, Jiho-ah! Time!”

Zico checked his phone. “A quarter past three.”

Taewoon cursed. “I’m going home.”

“Hyung?”

Taewoon cursed again as he realized he had not yet dressed. He threw on some clean clothes before rushing past Zico.

“Hey! Hyung! What’s going on? Did something happen?” Zico chased after him, his bare face swollen from sleep. “Did something happen to Eun Mi?”

Finding his Jordans proved a lot easier for Taewoon with Eun Mi’s OCD shoe racks; Zico watched him, perplexed, worried.

“No, nothing happened to her,” he smiled over his shoulder. “Look at you worrying about her. Just last night you hated her.”

Zico’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t hate her.”

“I know. Shit. Where are my keys? My phone! Dammit!”

“Hyung!” Zico cried exasperated as he followed a now barefooted Taewoon around the apartment. "What is going _on?_ ”

Taewoon, after having retrieved his phone, wallet, and keys, took his kid brother’s face between his hands. His _aegyo-sal_ intensified as he smiled, squeezing Zico’s cheeks together.

“Something good, Jiho-ah.”

“Hey! Where are you going?” Zico chased after him, propping the door open when it tried to shut behind him. “Hyung!”

“I’ll tell you later!”

Zico watched as Taewoon opted for the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. “Hyung!”

But Taewoon had already gone, the emergency exit banging loudly behind him.

* * *

Eun Mi sat in the middle of her room, her suitcase beside her. The movers had placed her furniture carefully in very much the same layout as in their previous dorm. Their lessons and practices had ended early, granting them the time needed to settle back in. Na Na unnie was in charge of the kitchen and living room; the girls were all expected to finish setting up their rooms by nightfall.

ReNA and Ienna had decided to room together this time around, sending DAEE and Chae into the bedroom across the hall. Na Na unnie and Eun Mi had their own rooms, of course.

DAEE, ever so practical, had packed in a manner that made it much easier for her to unpack. She had finished hours earlier and she now sat with Eun Mi, listening to SHINee’s latest album, _Odd_ , on repeat. She sang along to _Trigger_ , her favorite song from this particular album, as she watched Eun Mi pack the clothes she reserved for her trips to America.

Eun Mi didn’t pack much when she headed back to her hometown. DAEE, even after so many years with her, still could not figure out why she went so suddenly in mid-summer. Their leader didn’t lie, not really. She never told the kinds of lies that would be harmful to others, nor did she try to squirm her way out of a situation by making up a thing or two. What she did do, more than any of them, was keep secrets.

DAEE doubted Eun Mi meant to do so. She doubted that she willingly withheld her feelings and thoughts from them. She spent so much time looking after them that it was nearly impossible to blame her of anything as grave as that. No, DAEE believe Eun Mi just didn’t know how to share her sorrows with them. Everything else, she shared willingly, openly. But not her difficulties.

Once, DAEE had talked to Ryouta about it, talked about how Eun Mi did not confide in them the way they confided in her. Ryouta had listened to her for a long time, giving her knee a small, comforting pat when she finished. DAEE had not expected him to provide a solution, but he did provide her with a small, commonly known fact: “That is the struggle of a leader. They take care of others before themselves. And that’s lonely.”

A leader cared for others, placed their needs above their own. At least, that is what it seemed like to DAEE. Tae Jun and Eun Mi were always asking them if they were doing well, if they needed anything; they always set time aside for each member no matter how busy their own schedules were.

So at first, DAEE figured that Eun Mi didn’t share much with them because of her position as a leader. It was later, while having a late night conversation with Chae while they were still trainees, where DAEE learned that Eun Mi couldn’t actually speak to anyone about that certain aspect of her life.

“Ma Ri unnie’s parents passed away when she was only twelve or thirteen. She’s been a little sick ever since.”

A little sick meant a summer cold. A little sick meant a slight fever. A little sick did not mean having night terrors that visited you every so often, having your nerves chewed raw by constant worries. A little sick did not mean losing the ability to breathe because something simple could suddenly become so scary.

No, Eun Mi’s mind was made of paper. It was frail, delicate, easily crumpled. Why she continued to work in an environment that continuously placed her under constant stress and scrutiny, DAEE would never understand.

DAEE wanted Eun Mi to get better. She wanted her away from all the difficulties of the idol life. She wanted Eun Mi far away, safely stowed inside a cabin in the French countryside, far from everything that could hurt her.

At the same time, DAEE wanted Eun Mi with her. She wanted to spend her youth under her guidance, tutelage, and friendship. She couldn’t do much either way. It was all up to Eun Mi. Whether she remained an idol or retired from the publics’ eye, DAEE could not make that decision for her. All she could do was protect her as much as she could with her limited abilities.

Which is why she had never told Eun Mi about her relationship. DAEE had not meant to keep it a secret, at least, not at first. She had not said anything the first few months because—well, she didn’t want to make it a big deal. She feared that it would end before it really begun, despite the magnitude of her feelings for that person. DAEE figured, why tell them when it could end badly?

But that was just the thing, it didn’t end badly. In fact, it didn’t end at all. It _wasn’t_ ending. And because it wasn’t ending, DAEE had now wrapped herself in a shroud of secrets and sneaky comings and goings.

She wanted to tell Eun Mi. She wanted to tell the rest of CELESTIAL. The only problem was how terrified DAEE was.

After the events with Zico, Eun Mi’s mental health had slowly, gradually, declined. Auntie Minha said that she would regain her footing, that all she needed was a bit of time and something to focus on.

No one could have predicted that she would end up dating Woo Taewoon, placing herself closer to the trigger than anyone could have ever anticipated.

DAEE thought of Eun Mi’s mind as being made of paper. Paper became so frail and torn when wet. It became a big soggy, clumped, deformed mess. If she were to reveal her relationship now, Eun Mi’s mind could not handle it. It could not.

No matter how much she wanted to, DAEE could not tell her.

And he couldn’t tell Tae Jun either, no matter how much he wanted to.

* * *

Eun Mi felt DAEE recede into herself the longer she sat by her. She continued to sing _Trigger_ mindlessly, missing the tone and effect of the song entirely. Eun Mi wondered if she was thinking of her significant other. Maybe things weren’t going so well between them.

She really wished DAEE would just tell her. At least then she could ask her about it.

AOA’s _Like a Cat_ clashed with Trigger, creating a strange, rather unpleasant cacophony. Startled out of her thoughts, DAEE watched Eun Mi dive for her phone as she simultaneously paused _Odd_.

“Taewoon!” she said as a form of greeting.

“Hello to you, too.”

She smiled nervously, gripping a large chunk of hair in her hand. “H-how are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Eun Mi-ah, I don’t think I’ll be able to go see you off at the airport. Something came up.”

If Eun Mi’s shoulders weren’t attached to the rest of her body, they would have drooped all the way to the floor. She lowered herself onto her newly washed bed, her eyes fixated on her feet. “Is everything alright? What about Jiho?”

“He’s fine. He’s going to work later. _Follow the Leader_ or _Unpretty Rapstar_ or _Show Me the Money_ , one of those.”

“Oh. But, Taewoon, are you—?”

“I have to go. Eun Mi-ah, I’ll call you later. Actually, no. Message me when you get to America.”

“Tae—”

“Be safe.”

He hung up. Just like that.

Eun Mi held her phone to her ear for a while longer. DAEE stood, treading carefully as she sat beside her. “Unnie?”

Eun Mi inhaled deeply, smiling a broad smile that DAEE could so clearly see contained so much hurt in it. DAEE remembered her first argument with that person. She remembered how much it hurt. She knew what it was like, but she could not say anything.

The door swung open, smacking the wall rather loudly. They jumped. Eun Mi scolded, “Ienna! How many times have I told you not to kick doors open?!”

Ienna strutted into the room, gingerly hobbling about with her crutches. “My hands are full. Unnie, did you have a fight with Taewoon?”

“Ienna,” DAEE whispered, shocked at her insensitivity.

“What? I caught the end of the conversation. Unnie, I swear if he’s going to be a jerk, I will beat him up.”

Eun Mi smiled. “I think I’m more qualified and capable of beating him up than any one of us here.”

Ienna rolled her eyes. “All you have is a second _dan_ in Tae Kwon Do. I have _crutches._ ”

DAEE feared for Eun Mi’s life; she couldn’t stop laughing.

* * *

“You’re such an asshole,” Jungwoo said. He plopped down on Taewoon’s bed, earning him a heavy smack on the stomach. “Ooow!”

“What are you even doing here? Get off my bed. Get out of my house. Goodbye, I’m busy.”

Taewoon opened up his suitcase, piling up clothes. He stopped, considered something briefly, and then proceeded to switch out the shirts he’d selected, trading the long sleeves for short ones. Jungwoo closed his eyes, his hands behind his head.

“Where are you going?”

“Far, far away. Somewhere you can’t follow me.”

“Are you going with the little owlet?”  

“What?”

“Song Eun Mi.”

Taewoon paused. Jungwoo opened his eyes when he felt Taewoon’s gaze on him. He smiled, a slow smile.

“What? Do you think you’re the only one that notices how big her eyes get when she’s surprised? She’s like a baby owl. Big eyed and tiny.”

Taewoon didn’t smack his stomach this time, he full on sat on him. Jungwoo wheezed, coughed, and hit his back.

“Get off! You’re heavy! Get off!”

“Hey, you better be careful about what you say.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, get off!”

They shouted at each other for a while longer, Taewoon throwing clothes at him while he packed, Jungwoo smacking it away. Their playful banter had been going on for years. Jungwoo would usually shower Taewoon with affection; Taewoon would usually reject it. That was the foundation of their friendship. Loving and strange and full of shouting.

“Is it true?” Jungwoo inquired as he caught a flying hoodie. “Did the company terminate your contract?”

Taewoon didn’t miss a beat, “It’s true.”

For a few seconds, Jungwoo didn’t say anything. “I’m thinking about leaving the company.”

It was Taewoon’s turn to pause. He placed his laptop in its case, zipping it up. “When?”

“Soon. My contract is almost up.”

Taewoon nodded.

“You don’t seem terribly surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Do you think I’m being selfish? I’d be leaving SPEED.”

“I left SPEED first.”

“Yes, but you had a reason. A good one.”

Taewoon’s eyes met Jungwoo’s. A past lifetime of struggles resided within their gaze. Taewoon looked away, closing his suitcase. “You have one, too. We all do.”

They needed no words to understand. They had both lived through it, lived through the company’s betrayal and inefficiency.

MBK had failed to protect Co-Ed School. They had failed to protect the idols under their care. They had failed to defend them against vicious lies and doubly vicious truths. The entire mess that had been Co-Ed School had caused so much pain and trouble. SPEED had risen from the ashes of Co-Ed, but survived just barely. After all, they never were allowed to fly.

Upon his departure, Taewoon knew that he would be the beginning of a domino effect. He had suspected, early on, that Jungwoo would forgo the renewal of a contract. He also knew the other members were silently, slowly, moving away from the tragedy that was SPEED, seeking new horizons and knocking on better opportunities.

So, hearing Jungwoo finally voice his speculations didn’t take Taewoon by surprise at all. And Jungwoo, having seen Taewoon leave SPEED, the group he had poured so much of himself into, and successively being fired from MBK despite all his hard work, refused to allow MBK to steal more of his youth.

Jungwoo felt as if he were rotting. He felt as if his talent had begun to fester from disuse and mistreatment. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his flesh peeling off his bones; the nightmare of a youth gone to waste.

The expression on Taewoon’s face told him that he wasn’t the only one that thought that way. A thin smile spread across his face. “Who else?”

“Sejun.”

“Is he leaving the company?”

“I’m not too sure. He seems to be leaning towards acting and modeling.”

He nodded. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“What are you going to do now that you’re,” Jungwoo paused, smacking his lips in bitter thought, “between jobs?”

Taewoon laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Jungwoo, my dear, same-age friend, don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright. Like a cockroach, I’ll come back to life.”

“You’re so disgusting. Does Eun Mi-ah know you talk like this? Hey, tell her to dump you. You’re going to hell for being with such a nice girl. It’s a mortal sin to be such a disgusting person and force someone like Eun Mi to be with you.”

Taewoon’s arms morphed from limp embrace to a forceful headlock. Jungwoo gripped his forearms, smacking them as he fought for breath.

“K-kidding. K-kidding!”

“You say the weirdest, most ridiculous things.” Taewoon released him, propelling him towards the door. “Now get out.”

Jungwoo turned, hugging Taewoon tightly, squeezing him half to death. “But I came to see you, my Taewoonie.”

“My God, you’re such a leech. If you have so much free time, drive me to the airport.”

“Anything for my Taewoonie.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

* * *

Su Jong pulled his cap lower over his eyes, pushing his mask higher up the bridge of his nose. Eun Mi stood a ways off, debating whether to check her bag in or carry it up onto the airplane with her.

Dressed so simply, she looked like a common tourist. Her glasses slid down her nose so often, the action of pushing them up seemed to become a nervous tic. She wore her hair up in a high ponytail, secured beneath a cap. Without makeup, no one could recognize her.

Su Jong wasn’t so lucky. Despite being at the airport so late, curious eyes could still recognize him. It amazed him how Eun Mi managed to get away unperceived every year. She disappeared for a week and no one noticed. It was witchcraft, Su Jong was sure of it.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Eun Mi finally left the airline’s check-in desk without her bag. She hopped over to him, holding onto the straps of her backpack with both hands. Su Jong glanced around nervously.

“Calm down,” she whispered in English. “No one is here. It’s way too late for that.”

One of the perks of being best friends with Song Eun Mi was how she eased the process of learning different languages. Su Jong had managed to learn English through courses given by the company, but he had learned Spanish by spending hours with Eun Mi. Japanese came through courses and Ryouta’s careful instruction.

“Will you keep doing this every year?”

Only Su Jong could ask a question like that so bluntly and with annoyance. Eun Mi didn’t smile; she didn’t need to, not around Su Jong.

“Believe me, I want to stop, too.”

“Ma Ri, you already have so much. Why do you keep going back to what you lost? Your father, he’s dead now. Don’t you think you can stop now?”

Eun Mi gulped, hard. She bit her thumbnail, a sharp clipping sound wanting to echo in the uncongested airport.

“You can’t live these many lives, you know? As Song Ma Ri, as Song Eun Mi, as CELESTIAL’s leader, that’s already so much. Why hold on to another one?”

“Because it’s a part of me Su Jongie. I wouldn’t be here if none of that had happened.”

“No, you would have been back in the States training your youth away to win a silly gold medal.”

“Isn’t that what we did here as well?”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different, Jongie?”

“You _want_ to sing. You never wanted to be an athlete.”

Eun Mi wondered about that. She wondered about that so much.

“All I’m saying,” Su Jong continued, “is that you’re holding onto too much. That’s why you get so jittery. And yes, I know it’s ‘not that simple.’ Nothing ever is. But just try, just _try_ , Ma Ri. I’m not telling you to forget them. They should always be remembered and loved. Just don’t let him control your life as much as he does even from the grave.”

“Sometimes, I really hate you.”

“Trust me, I really hate you, too.”

They smiled, sad smiles that held pain so deep it was nearly impossible to contain. Neither understood how or why they were best friends. Eun Mi’s grief for her parents was unhealthy, but it was that same grief that had given her the courage to yell at Su Jong that fateful summer day. Su Jong’s hatred for his father was unhealthy. It poisoned his heart, led him astray for many years. Yet it was also this passionate hatred that had shown Eun Mi that perhaps rebelling a bit wouldn’t be so terribly bad.

They were still working on getting better. But, in Su Jong’s most humble opinion, Eun Mi was the one that had the longest way to go.

Sighing, he placed his hands in his pockets, looking around. “Isn’t Taewoon hyung coming?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Beat him up later.”

“Ienna will. She has crutches.”

“Damn, that little girl is feisty. I pity the man that earns her scorn.”

“So, Zico?”

“So, Zico.”

Su Jong walked her over to security check. Once there, he held up his hand. Their fingers intertwined, their palms pressed together tightly, knuckles white.

“Safe travels,” Su Jong whispered.

“Safer stay,” Eun Mi replied.

Just as he had been doing it for years, Su Jong watched her until she was safely on the other side. He prayed that this time, she’d be able to free herself of her father’s demanding memory.

* * *

With her passport in one hand, her boarding pass safely tucked within, Eun Mi walked the long, arduous distance from the security check to her departing gate. She felt immensely grateful that she had decided to check her bag in, although she didn’t understand why she wavered each and every time.

Red-eye flights were horrendous, but the near emptiness of the airports during that time gave her the liberty of leaving unperceived. After so many years, they all had the routine well memorized, executing it to perfection. Su Jong liked to be dramatic; he always made such a fuss when he dropped her off.

When her gate finally came into view, Eun Mi sighed with relief. Her calves were burning; for a moment she thought she might lose her flight.

Would that have been such a big deal? She would feel apologetic to her mother, but her father…

“Look at you. If I didn’t know that look already, I would think you were a tourist.”

Eun Mi whirled around, colliding with Taewoon’s massive frame. She yelped, holding her nose, her eyes watering from the pain. Taewoon had caught her glasses. She couldn’t quite make him out, he was only a mere blur, but she could sense him already pulling her glasses on.

“Wow, you’re blind!”

“Woo Taewoon!” she hissed.

“Surprise,” he said, placing her glasses back on her nose.

“You jerk.” Eun Mi threw herself at him, holding on for dear life.

She had been so frightened that he had gotten mad at her. Asking him to join her on her trip to the States right after he had been eliminated…He could have taken it as a great insult. When he’d called earlier, Eun Mi had been ready to go in search of him and beg for his forgiveness. She had been that frightened.

Taewoon placed a gentle kiss on her head regardless of her cap. She squeezed him, holding him closer.

“Ienna’s going to beat you up for being mean to me.”

“You’ll defend me, right?”

“Nope.”

“But she has _crutches_.”

“It’s just what you deserve.”

* * *

The apartment was empty. Zico hadn’t expected to return to a vacant apartment. Though what could he have expected after everything that happened?

His day had been filled with demanding schedules.

Zico here. Zico there. Zico everywhere.

The time he’d considered so precious, the time to make amends, slipped right through his fingers as if he weren’t so desperately trying to hold onto it. He believed it vital to sort things out tonight. He had to. Bridges could burn so easily, especially when soaked with bad blood.

He had not expected Taewoon to disappear so suddenly. At least, Zico had figured, he would see him later. Now, later had come and Taewoon was nowhere to be found.

Zico called Taewoon. It went straight to voicemail. He called Eun Mi. Voicemail.

A really cold weight settled on his chest.

He felt so very alone. 


	29. Razor Sharp

Zico arrived at HQ a few minutes after the main cameras had been turned off for the night. Without much thought, he headed up to Eun Mi and Chorong’s room.

In the second floor’s television and living room area, Chorong sat with Gyuri’s head on her lap, her fingers lightly tapping on the face mask Gyuri sported with grace and poise.

Chorong smiled at him. “Hiya, Zico! I didn’t think we would see you tonight.”

Unable to speak from the mask, all Gyuri did was give him a good natured wave of her fingers. Zico jumped when Sunggyu appeared from the other end of the coffee table. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes half open. Once he’d woken up enough to be aware of his surroundings, he raised a casual, lazy hand in greeting.

“Oppa, you should go lay down. You’ll get sick like that,” Chorong said.

Sunggyu mumbled, resuming his former position on the floor, all notion of being Infinite’s charismatic leader forgotten.

That happened in HQ after the cameras were turned off: idols forgot that they were idols. They ate, slept, cleaned, and interacted the way normal roommates would. A leader among leaders became just a regular member. A celebrity among celebrities lost all wonder.

One of the reasons Zico disliked being in HQ was because to everyone in there he was _just_ Zico, their maknae. He could never get used to it, not even when Jimin had said there was really nothing impressive about him in _Upretty Rapstar_. Here he was just Zico. He had not been just Zico for a long time.

“Where’s everyone else?”

Chorong didn’t look up. “Tae Jun oppa went for some food with Jimin and Jonghoon oppa.”

“This late?”

“Would you be the one that stopped them later?”

“No. I value my life.”

“So do we.”

“What about the rest?”

Chorong understood this to mean “Where is Eun Mi?”

“Hyorin unnie had an overseas schedule. N oppa is with his members. Eun Mi won’t be back until next week.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, yeah, Zico-yah, we have a mission scheduled for next Sunday. They say it will be an MT of sorts.”

“Doesn’t CELESTIAL have their comeback next week as well?”

Chorong nodded, giving Gyuri’s cheeks the final taps. “They are. Eun Mi will have to head to the MT right after they film their MV. Or was it before? I can’t quite remember.”

“INFINITE will be in the middle of promotions as well,” said a half-conscious Sunggyu.

“SHINee will be promoting for about two weeks, too, from the looks of it.”

“Their promotions were pushed back,” Sunggyu yawned. “Minho hurt his ankle.”

“Oh no! Poor Eun Mi will have a heart attack! Their promotions are bound to overlap this time around since CELESTIAL’s were also pushed back,” said Chorong.

“Even if they hadn’t been delayed, they would have met with them during their last week,” Gyuri assured her. “It’s not like Chae will have it easy with INFINITE around, either.”

“Hey!”

“Does Chae not like INFINITE? Does Eun Mi not like SHINee?” Zico asked, finally taking a seat by Sunggyu. “Don’t worry, hyung, I like you.”

“Not like them?” Sunggyu laughed, accepting Zico’s hug. “Nah, Eun Mi-ah doesn’t like SHINee. She absolutely worships them!”

Chorong shushed Sunggyu, hastily redirecting the conversation. “Chae _loves_ INFINITE. By the way oppa, that 360 MV you guys released was amazing. Was it difficult to film?”

Confused, Zico listened to Sunggyu unconvincingly follow Chorong’s lead. The conversation headed down a road that he was not interested in. INFINITE’s struggles to film the 360 MV really didn’t hold his attention. Sure, it was a great accomplishment, they were the first Hallyu stars to film such a music video, but Zico wanted to hear more about Eun Mi.

“We’re back!” Tae Jun called from the front door. “Hyung! We brought what you asked for!”

“Wah! Tae Jun-ah! You’re the best!”

Zico had never seen Sunggyu move as fast as he did then. Gyuri excused herself, taking shelter in her room. It was no secret that Gyuri felt a little at a loss around Tae Jun. It came across as a grand surprise, KARA’s goddess losing her footing around L6’s strict leader. Most astounding still was how Tae Jun seemed not to mind her in the least.

Chorong stayed in the living area with Zico. She watched him, her eyes soft. “Jiho-ah.”

“Hm? Yes, noona?”

“She’s out of the country.”

“I didn’t—”

“I know you didn’t ask,” Chorong stood up, stretching. With her eyes focused on the stairs, she said, “You might find yourself working together. The production crew has gotten many complaints about the maknaes’ lack of interaction with one another.”

“Noona.”

“Just be careful. Things between the two of you have never been exactly peachy.”

Though Chorong’s words were soft and caring, her worries well-founded and cautious, they made the ache in his chest return.

“Hey, Zico, I didn’t know you would be here,” Tae Jun greeted when he spotted him descending the stairs after Chorong.

“Oh, hyung, I’m just on my way out.”

“You just got here,” Sunggyu said.

“I remembered I have something to do.”

He left before anyone could properly question him as to where he was going. Even Zico did not know.

* * *

His wanderings brought him to the place he least expected: Block B’s old dorm. Somehow, it made sense to return to the place where it had all started. Zico sat on the floor, his back against the door to his old residence, legs sprawled out before him.

Zico had a lot of thinking to do. He wondered how he could sort out all of his emotions, organize his exhausted, chaotic mind long enough to figure out what was true and what had become an inflamed, hyperbolic lie.

With music, he didn’t think in words. He thought in melodies, beats, harmonies. Lyrics came later, born out of a single emotion, image, or memory.

The problem was that he wasn’t composing. Zico had to reevaluate all that he knew—or thought he knew. How could he?

Zico closed his eyes, banging his head against the door ever so softly so as to not disturb the new tenants.

His mind unlocked the memory, without warning, lacking grace or sympathy.

He could see her clearly, standing a ways off, holding a jar of homemade strawberry jam. Her skin had blemishes, acne. Her body still had weight to it that she would be required to lose before debut. He liked her at that weight, full and plump. Her thighs had been firm even back then, no doubt due to the sport she practiced. Back then, Zico had had no idea she did martial arts.

How he remembered her so clearly, Zico wasn’t sure.

All she had done was offer him jam, wished him a successful debut period and called him _sunbae_. He had seen her several times over the course of a week. All she had ever done was greet him. She’d been friendly, polite. Until she had given him a stack letters, fan letters.

“Someone left this by my friend’s front door. I know they shouldn’t be invading your privacy like this, but it’s not our place to throw them out.”

“Your friend’s place? You mean you’re not the one that lives next door?”

“My friend lives there. She’s an unnie, Jung Seo Yeon. I’m house sitting for her.”

Zico, disgusted by the stalker-like nature of the letters and this newfound information, had refused to take them. He’d found them the next morning, neatly piled against the wall.

Zico’s eyes snapped open. Was that it? Was that all that was left of the memory? It couldn’t be. He’d been convinced that she’d done something much more drastic. Something about her behavior had convinced him that she’d been a stalker fan.

Where did his memory go wrong?

The sound of the elevator doors opening startled him. A woman, dressed in business casual, exited with her heels in her hands. She dug around her purse for a few moments, bypassing Zico wordlessly. It wasn’t until she was further down the hall before her own front door that she noticed Zico.

They assessed one another with silent care. She looked vaguely familiar. Suddenly, she sighed, turning her body to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Please tell me you’re not moving back in.”

“E-excuse me?” Zico stood, dusting his pants self-consciously.

“Your presence in this area became a great cause for disturbance when you first arrived. Honestly, no one would like it if you returned. Please, don’t be sentimental and think returning to your origins will help you. It’s too late for that. Your personality is already rotten.”

Zico bristled. “What—?”

“Oh, save it. I’m not your fan and I’m older than you. Write a diss track if you want. But maybe you should teach your fans how to respect others first.”

She turned away, opening her door. Zico suddenly recognized her. “You’re Song Eun Mi’s friend.”

“I am. I would appreciate it if you stopped bothering her.”

Zico nearly hissed. This woman was being beyond rude and condescending. “What did I ever do to you?”

She laughed, a cold, unhappy thing. “Because of you I had all your crazy fans bothering me! All that constant noise and their whining cheers. I couldn’t concentrate on my studies! Because of all the noise I had a nervous breakdown! I had to study for the SATs back then and all your fans did was make a ruckus so huge I lost time to study! If Ma Ri hadn’t convinced me to go away for a few weeks, then I would have definitely failed!”

“You? You lived next door? You’re the unnie she talked about? Seo…Seo…”

“Jung Seo Yeon,” she rolled her eyes. “Did you think Ma Ri came around for you? Ha! She lived one floor above. We’d been friends for years until you came along. She moved and we couldn’t hang out as often. Tsk. If only all those crazy fans had never found out you lived here. Crazy stalkers.”

“S-she lived here?”

“Duh. Why? Did you think she was your stalker? She’s not even your fan.”

“T-that—”

“Listen, Zi-A-Co. Leave Ma Ri alone. She has suffered so much already. Let her enjoy her career without involving her with your crazy fans.”

“You sound so convinced it’s one of my Bees that is bothering her.”

Seo Yeon rasied an eyebrow. “She’s standing outside. Waiting for you.”

“What?” Zico closed the distance between them with long strides, his eyes changing from bewildered to sharp and frightening. “Who did you see?”

Seo Yeon opened the door to her apartment, not in the least bit intimidated by the large man before her. “She’s wearing a Block B hoodie. She asked me if you’d moved back in. She said she was your sister.” She scoffed. “Anyone with half a brain would know you only have Woo Taewoon.”

Zico opened his mouth, freezing as he heard the elevator ding in arrival. Without hesitating, he took Seo Yeon by the shoulders, pushing her inside her apartment, closing the door behind him.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Shh!” Zico placed his hand over her lips, feeling her lipstick taint his palm. “Be quiet. Don’t move.”

Instinctively, Zico wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her to him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. With his back against the door, Zico kept his ears open, straining to hear beyond the door.

Footsteps traveled down the hall towards them, stopping right outside the door. Someone rang the doorbell, causing Seo Yeon to jump in Zico’s arms. Her eyes darted around nervously.

“Unnie,” a voice said from outside. It chilled them, the hint of madness they could so clearly hear in it. “I’m the girl from downstairs. You told me to come visit you, unnie.”

Zico turned to Seo Yeon. She shook her head violently, denying the crazy claims. The girl outside rang the doorbell once more.

“Unnie, you said you would introduce me to Zico. I saw him come inside. Zico—no, oppa,” she giggled. “Oppa, I know you’re inside. I can smell your cologne through the door.”

Zico’s body jerked away from the door, causing the motion detector to light the bulbs overhead. The stalker rapped on the door frantically.

“Oppa! Is that you? I can see your shadow now!”

Seo Yeon’s eyes widened, she tightened her hand on Zico’s wrist. He could see the frantic fear being born behind her once steadily confident gaze. The stalker banged on the door.

“Open up, unnie! You promised to let me inside! Open up you, bitch!”

Something shattered against the door. Zico jumped away, protecting Seo Yeon instinctively. He released her mouth, taking no notice of how her lipstick had smeared across her lips and cheek. His own hand was a plum colored mess.

“Do you have a security camera attached to your doorbell?” he whispered.

Seo Yeon shook her head. Zico cursed.

“Oh! Oppa! Was that you? I know you’re inside! I just heard you!”

Seo Yeon glared at Zico accusingly. She would have smacked him if she hadn’t been so afraid the stalker would hear it and be provoked.

“Call the cops,” Zico whispered. “Tell her you’re doing so.”

“M-me?”

“Do you want her to break down the door once she hears me?” Zico hissed.

A loud bang made Seo Yeon scream. She covered her head with both hands, Zico shielding her protectively. Whatever the stalker had in her hands allowed her to continue banging against the door.

“She’s making dents!” Seo Yeon gasped. “Zico, she’s making dents on the door!”

“Noona,” Zico took Seo Yeon by the shoulders. “Tell her you’re calling the cops. Hurry!”

Seo Yeon shook her head, frightened. “What if she just gets angrier?”

“ _Noona_.”

Whimpering, Seo Yeon reached for her cell phone at the same time that Zico took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. Seo Yeon inhaled, gathering her strength.

“Hey! I don’t know who the hell you are but you better leave before I call the cops!”

“Give me my oppa! I know he’s in there!”

Seo Yeon’s eyes narrowed. “I’m calling the cops!”

Without saying anything else, she did just that. Zico held her hand the entire time, keeping his body between her and the door.

The stalker continued to bang against the door, leaving several more signs of damage. Seo Yeon squeaked several times while she talked to the operator, delivering her address shakily.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the banging stopped. Something clattered against the ground. The sound of storming footsteps receded down the hallway. The sound of the emergency stairway’s door slamming shut made them wince.

“She’s getting away,” Zico stood, anger burning his skin. “She’s getting away again.”

Seo Yeon, tugged on his arm. “Hide. Go into my bedroom. Stay there until the cops leave. Turn your phone off. Don’t make a single sound.”

“What?”

“If they know you’re in here, the press is bound to find out. It will be another scandal.”

“Ms. Seo Yeon—”

Seo Yeon scoffed. “Whatever happened to noona? Never mind that. Stay in my room. Take your shoes off, but take them with you. _Hurry!_ ”

Zico had no choice.

* * *

While Jung Seo Yeon talked to the police in her living room, Zico stood awkwardly insider her tidy bedroom. It was exactly as he expected it to be, well organized and clean. Apologetically, he sat on her bed, exhaling his exhaustion.

He could not believe that had just happened. He’d been followed back to his old dorm!

Zico rubbed his hands together, his nerves raw. He’d been surrounded by all types of fans since the beginning. Those that truly loved Block B, those that loved the rest of Block B but feared or hated him. He’d even come across those that could not stop crying after meeting him. His Bees were the cutest and strongest.

But among them there were a few that surpassed everything and anything he’d ever seen. There were fans that invaded his privacy and that of the people around him. They left messages, gifts, even their phone numbers by his front door. Then there were the stalkers that tried to sneak into his house. He’d moved several times because of it.

However, this was the first time Zico had to deal with a fan as crazy as this one. He’d never before been followed so closely. Never had a complete stranger been placed in danger because of him.

“Ms. Jung Seo Yeon, we’ll need for you to come down to the station and give us a statement,” Zico heard one of the cops say. “We have to investigate this carefully.”

“Of course, officer. But, may I change first? I’ve been at work all day.”

“Of course, of course. We’ll wait just outside.”

Zico stood when she entered. He rubbed his hands against his pants, drying the sweat that had made them clammy.

“I have to go down to the station. What do you want me to tell them?”

Zico blinked, confused. “Tell them the truth.”

“If I do that, the press will have a field day. They’ll know it’s one of your fans.”

“Whomever she is, she is not a fan. She’s a crazy person. A stalker. Tell them the truth.”

“Even if it places you in a difficult situation?”

“Yes. Tell the truth.”

Seo Yeon crossed her arms. She regarded him for a very long time. Eventually, she sighed, dropping her arms and heading for her closet. “Ma Ri always told me you weren’t half bad. I suppose being related to Taewoon is bound to guarantee a few good traits.”

“You’ve met my hyung?”

“Only once. He was at the dojo when I went over.” She smiled as if she were remembering a fond memory. “Honestly, Ma Ri is so lucky. He’s such a great catch.”

Her words left Zico feeling beyond awkward and inadequate. He cleared his throat. “I’ll pay for the damage done to your front door. I’ll have my manager contact you.”

“Please do.”

He opened his mouth, ready to ask, but held back. Seo Yeon noticed this; she raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”

“I-if you don’t mind my asking, how did you and Eun Mi become friends?”

Seo Yeon pointed to a framed photograph resting on her dresser. In it, a younger Seo Yeon had her arm around an even younger Eun Mi’s shoulders. Both their arms were raised over their heads, pearlescent aqua light sticks in their hands.

“We met during one of SHINee’s live performances. We’ve been close ever since.”

“S-SHINee?”

“Mm. Our history began with SHINee and it will end with SHINee. Which means never.”

A sparkle came to her eyes, one that Zico had witnessed in BBC before. It was the sparkle of a fan’s undying love for their idol.

Zico came to the slow, belated realization that Eun Mi was a fan of SHINee. He recalled all the times she’d sang along to SHINee, lyrics perfectly executed. He remembered Tae Jun teasing her about the constant pearlescent aqua color that somehow always found its way into her clothing or personal objects.

He didn’t want to ask, but he had to. “Ms. Seo Yeon?”

“What is it?”

“Did Eun Mi become an idol to meet SHINee?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think she would have left her parents’ graves back in America just to meet five idols? Of course not! Don’t underestimate our Ma Ri like that!”

“Her parents’ graves?”

Before Seo Yeon could answer, one of the cops knocked on her front door, asking if she was okay.

“I’ll be right there!” Seo Yeon called back. She turned to Zico, sighing. “Stay here for an hour or so. The police said they would secure the area. I’ll text you when they say it’s clear.”

She handed him her phone as she went into the bathroom to change. Zico pressed his number in, his thoughts consumed by what he’d just learned. He didn’t hear Seo Yeon tell him that there was food in the fridge if he wanted something to eat or that she expected him to feed her cat before she got back.

No, Zico’s mind had dived into the darkest abyss. He could not move; after he took his seat on the corner of Seo Yeon’s bed, he sat in darkness until she returned. She’d screamed in fright upon finding him there, elbows on knees, head hanging limply.

“What are you still doing here, Zico? I told you it was safe to leave an hour ago!”

Zico didn’t seem to hear her. All he knew, all he heard, was the constant whisper of that black abyss in his mind: You were wrong. You were wrong. You. Were. Wrong.

* * *

Jung Seo Yeon was not a night owl. She went to bed early, rose even earlier, and worked diligently every day. Except for the weeks SHINee had active promotions, Seo Yeon took great care with her diet, sleeping habits, and daily schedule. She was a strong, independent woman whose world was black and white with very few gray areas.

People were inherently good or inherently bad, pushovers or manipulators. She could count her close friends with a single hand and have fingers to spare. Seo Yeon was a business woman, an academic, and SHINee World. That was it. She had no time or need for anything else. Especially not a zoned out K-Pop idol that refused to react.

Zico sat at her dining room table motionless, his eyes glazed over, focused on something far, far away. Seo Yeon was at a loss, cranky from the night’s events and from having to stay up past her bedtime. What could she do with an idol undergoing a mental breakdown?

Carefully, she placed a warm cup of tea before him. “Here. Drink this. It might help.”

He didn’t seem to hear her any more than he could see her. Seo Yeon waited a few moments before releasing a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t have the time or skills for this,” she muttered.

Though a friend of Eun Mi’s, Seo Yeon had never been the one Eun Mi relied on. In fact, Seo Yeon was one of the few people that knew Song Ma Ri simply as Song Ma Ri. There existed no duplicity when Seo Yeon and Ma Ri met. She never addressed her as Eun Mi. In turn, Ma Ri never acted as girl group leader and member Eun Mi.

Because Ma Ri never exposed her to that side of her life, Seo Yeon had never witnessed her struggles, not really.

She did keep an eye on her, a very casual eye. Which is why she knew of the rumors. But even then, Ma Ri had never told her anything. Never confided in her or given her any information that she might not know from searching the web. Plus, her dislike for Zico had begun back in 2011 when all those crazy fans had nearly driven her insane.

If she were honest, Seo Yeon’s friendship with her had lasted this long only because of Ma Ri. She’d always been nice and polite, making time for her and the rest of their group even when SHINee was not promoting.

Seo Yeon wasn’t that great of a friend. She’d always known it. As she also knew that if Ma Ri had not been flying over the Pacific, she would have probably called her to come and retrieve her moping senior.

In the end, Seo Yeon did the only thing she could think of. She fixed up the sofa with spare sheets, a blanket, and a pillow.

“You can sleep here if you want. I have work in a few hours. I’m going to bed.”

The following morning, Seo Yeon found the tea cup still full and the sofa undisturbed. Zico had let himself out, locking the door and sliding the key back in through the gap.

She didn’t think much of it. With her purse in one hand and her work bag in the other, she made her way to work. She had had quite enough of idols for a while.

* * *

Jiho had left Jung Seo Yeon’s apartment soon after she’d retired to her bedroom. Afraid that the stalker might still be around, he’d taken the roundabout way, exiting through the janitor’s office down by the basement. Block B had used that exit several times during their residence; he’d been glad to find it still existed.

He didn’t feel like going to his studio. The stalker could be there.

He didn’t feel like going home. If his mother saw him in this condition, she would be sure to worry. Taewoon’s room would be empty, he knew. No point in going only to confirm that which he already knew.

Jiho ended up driving to one of his favorite churches, St. John’s. This particular parish was larger than St. Cecilia’s, with gardens that surrounded the modern white building. The bell tower was made of glass and white brick. On a sunny day, the inside would be illuminated with the soft, colorful rays that seeped through the diaphanous fabrics that hung from one end of the ceiling to the other. Yellow, blue, red, purple, green; such colors never failed to produce a calming, awed effect on those present.

Jiho loved that. He loved to sit in the pews beneath, staring at the magnificent beauty created by God’s sunlight coupled with the human made drapery. He could not go in now, though. The front doors were locked, and, since St. John’s did not have Adoration available twenty-four hours a day, he could not even enter through the chapel.

Left with no other option, Jiho wandered around to the back gardens. The property was large enough to contain a sizeable maze—the youth groups always had events that included it in some way or another—picnic tables, an outdoor ballroom for weddings and other celebrations, and still have room left over for statues and trees.

The church had been built after the Korean War with the effort and contributions of the community. There were rumors that the Pope had personally blessed the land when he visited back in 2014. Jiho had been unable to attend any of the events planned for the youth. He’d missed out on a lot.

His mother had gone to Mass. Jiho recollected her tell him that Taewoon had accompanied her. Though not as open with his faith as Jiho, Taewoon did have a strong, solid relationship with God. Jiho expressed it on his body, Taewoon in silent privacy.

Jiho wondered if Eun Mi had attended Mass during the papal visit. Knowing her, she had probably snuck out of Seoul just to meet him in Daejeon. He wouldn’t put it past her. She had probably dragged Su Jong along.

He stopped before an astounding replica of Michael Angelo’s _Pieta_ , rubbing his face roughly. He gazed upon a heartbroken, mourning Virgin Mary, her divine, sacrificed son in her arms. Jiho could never look at the _Pieta_ for too long. It overwhelmed him, shattered him.

Lowering himself onto the flush grass, he rested his back against the base, his fingers rubbing the rosary beads of his bracelet absentmindedly. It brought him great comfort to sit there in silence and stillness.

Zico’s turmoil continued to explode within him, though it had taken a back row seat now that he sat on holy ground. After a few minutes of stillness, Jiho tackled the mess Zico had made.

He dug around until he found the reason his memory of her had become so warped. With the passage of the years, through the struggled to climb to the top as Block B, and most presently with his desire to be a solid presence in the hip hop world, Zico had acquired a taste for attention, for fame.

He thrived under the careful watch of fans, expanded with the aid of scandals. Zico was a genius, a prodigy. His music killed charts, his bank account showed it. He’d become an idol whose kind had never been seen before. And while all of Block B had managed to carry out the troublemaker image, Zico had embraced it completely.

He had elevated himself over everyone else so much that he’d gone as far as to modify a memory to feed his ego. He despised stalkers, but there, surrounded by the stillness of God, he could not hide the fact that Zico believed the presence of stalkers also spoke of status and likability.

Zico was drunk on fame.

Sitting there, Jiho could not help but wonder if something amazing had been ruined. If Zico was not the way he was, if he had been just a tiny bit humble, just a little bit, perhaps that first meeting would have been different.

Jiho froze the thought before it fully morphed into shape. He allowed his mind to linger on the sound of her voice, swirl around her smile, and drown in her eyes for a few moments before he locked them away forever.

He sat underneath the _Pieta_ until the dawn tinted the sky with pinks and purples and oranges. He bowed his head in prayer. Stillness allowed him to stand.

His car was no longer the only one in the parking lot. Several early birds had arrived for the six o’clock Mass. A handful of those had managed to arrive early enough for Confession. A woman gave him a curious glance as she exited her vehicle. Jiho bowed before climbing into his own.

He watched the parishioners hurry into the church, their eyes awake and aware. Lowering the sun visor, Jiho slid the thin plastic shield away from the mirror, staring at his smooth reflection.

Zico. Jiho. They were one and the same. He had to reconcile both sides somehow.

“Be strong, Zico,” Jiho said. “Be strong. Be humble. Be kind.”

Pulling out of the parking lot, he headed for HQ. Maybe he could get a few hours of sleep before his first schedule.


	30. Who Are You?

They arrived in LA a little after four o’clock. As a U.S. citizen, Eun Mi had to go through a different part of customs. As they neared the station, Eun Mi grew annoyed.

“What’s wrong?” Taewoon asked, rubbing her arm gently.

“I hate coming through customs. They take forever.” She turned to him, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Will you be okay? They’ll ask you a few questions. They’ll probably take forever. They’re such assholes.”

Taewoon grinned. “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I come to the States, y’know?”

Eun Mi exhaled. “I’m glad we don’t have a connecting flight.”

This surprised Taewoon. “We don’t?”

“No. I’ve missed several flights because of these assholes. We fly out in the morning.”

He could not ask more since an officer roughly escorted him to another section of customs. It took him nearly an hour to reunite with her at baggage claim. She sat on a bench, head tilted back with both suitcases beside her.

“Someone could steal those.”

She scoffed. Taewoon realized early on that jetlag made Eun Mi cranky, which, oddly enough, he found endearing.

As the native, she led him around with ease. After washing up at the hotel near the airport, they headed out for In-N-Out Burger. They both wanted to sleep, but if they gave in, their jetlag would be miserable later.

Eun Mi rubbed her eyes every so often, setting her chin on her hand, her blinks becoming slower, longer. Taewoon felt the same way.

“I’m so tired I can’t taste anything,” she pouted. “What a waste.”

Taewoon smiled a small smile, reaching for her hand. Instinctively, Eun Mi laced her fingers through his. They rested their hands on the surface of the table, her head on his arm.

It felt strange, surreal, showcasing their relationship out in the open. Sitting there in exhausted, a sudden thought occurred to Taewoon.

“Eun Mi-ah?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your name?”

Eun Mi sat up, looking at him from behind her thick-rimmed glasses. “What do you mean what’s my name?”

“Your legal name.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Song Ma Ri.”

Taewoon let out a tiny laugh. “No, silly, your birth name. The name your parents gave you.”

“Ooh!” Eun Mi laughed, resuming her previous position. “It’s Marisol.”

She told him so simply, without a hint of anything—not fondness, not pride, not melancholy. She revealed her birth name so matter-of-factly that Taewoon had nothing to say for a good while.

“Ma Ri Seol?”

Eun Mi giggled. “Marisol.”

He practiced it for twenty minutes before he got it right. Eun Mi laughed, dismissing the event as just an everyday occurrence.

“What’s your family name?”

“Rodriguez. Pretty normal.”

“Rod-what?”

This made her laugh. “See? This is exactly what it felt like to learn Korean!”

And though she teased him a tiny bit (the same way she teased him while helping him with English, always in good nature), she guided him through the syllables.

“Rodriguez, Marisol.” Taewoon looked at her. “Marisol.”

For the first time since she’d spoken her birth name, Eun Mi reacted to it. Her cheeks warmed. She pressed the back of her hands to them, looking away. Her heart raced. She realized that she really loved the sound of her name on his lips, spoken in his voice.

He draped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer as he pressed his forehead against her hair. “What does it mean?”

“E-eh?”

“What does your name mean?”

“María Soledad,” Eun Mi deadpanned. “It’s a shortened version of Maria Soledad.”

“Maria as in Mary? What is _Soledad_?”

“Solitude.”

Taewoon detected the bitterness in her voice. He regarded her closely.

“You don’t like your name.”

She shrugged. “My aunt tells me that it doesn’t mean that. She says my parents meant for it to mean _mar y sol_ —sea and sun.”

“You don’t think your parents could have meant that?”

Again, she shrugged. “My father was not that nice.”

It was the first time that Taewoon had heard her speak ill of her parents to any degree. Eun Mi usually had the highest of praise for them, always in a loving, animated tone.

He realized that standing on her native country, Seoul, South Korea thousands of miles behind, with a vast ocean between them, allowed her to shed some of the armor that she had built up around herself.

Taewoon had witnessed the shift from CELESTIAL’s Song Eun Mi to the regular twenty-two year old Song Ma Ri. Now, he’d witnessed yet another layer of her disappear.

There was CELESTIAL’s Song Eun Mi, twenty-two year old Song Ma Ri, and the orphan Marisol Rodriguez.

The word hit Taewoon like a ton of bricks. The reality that he knew almost nothing about her nearly suffocated him.

Eun Mi sighed, wrapping her arms around him. She nuzzled her face against his side, smiling. “Let’s go now. I’m tired.”

* * *

The morning sun baked his skin the moment he stepped out of the air-conditioned airport and onto the arrivals’ pick-up area. His suitcase came to a halting stop beside him. He raised his hand to shield his eyes against the blazing light. 

A cool hand touched his arm. He squinted down at Eun Mi.

Already, she had a pair of sunglasses on. She held his sunglasses in her hand, wiped clean, ready for use.

He accepted them gratefully. Taewoon couldn’t decide what kind of heat was worse: Korea’s humid grip or this state’s dry, suffocating oven.

With his eyes now shielded from the burning sunlight, Taewoon noticed she had removed her cardigan, draping it on her suitcase’s handle lifelessly, forgotten and useless in this infernal climate. Her tank top hung loosely, billowing in the dry breeze. She sported a pair of strappy sandals. Her legs looked longer in her shorts; a strip of perhaps two or three inches of dark denim peeked from underneath the length of her top. With expert, practiced movements, she scooped up her dark hair into a messy ponytail, securing it away from her face, neck, shoulders, and back.

Taewoon had never seen so much of her skin. So much of _her_.

Eun Mi did not look like Eun Mi. She stood taller, more confident, at ease. This Eun Mi was American born Marisol, comfortable in her skin, decided, with knowledge of her surroundings. This Eun Mi was a giant. Taewoon almost felt small beside her.

A good night’s rest seemed to have gotten rid of the gloomy mood that had surrounded her the previous day. She’d woken up feeling refreshed, energetic, ready to tackle whatever life threw at her.

“The jetlag will catch up with us soon,” she said in Korean. It sounded so foreign in the American airport. She stood on her toes, stretching her neck this way and that. “Do you see a large, dark blue Ford pick-up?”

Taewoon scanned the pick-up area. He did, in fact, see many Ford pick-ups. None of them dark blue. “Someone is picking us up?”

“Of course! I would not pay a cab. They’re too expensive. My cousin should’ve been here already.”

“Cousin?”

Eun Mi flashed him a toothy smile, her tongue just peeking out from between her teeth. “ _One_ of them anyway.”

The blare of a horn drowned whatever Taewoon had been about to think. He followed the sound to a dark blue Ford pick-up truck. Someone waved at them through the driver’s open window.

“Marisol! Mari!”

Eun Mi threw her hand up, waving just as, if not more, frantically. “Aurelia!”

She stopped waving only to snatch Taewoon’s hand in hers. She nearly dragged him behind her. Taewoon couldn’t understand how such a tiny person could have so much energy and strength. He felt _this_ close from a mental breakdown.

When they reached the vehicle, she threw her cardigan at the girl inside. “Oppa, can you put these in the back?”

Taewoon froze. “Oppa?”

Eun Mi—or was it this new person, Marisol?—flashed him her trademark smile. She pulled him down, kissing his lips softly. Taewoon did as she’d asked, dazed.

“ _Who’s the big man? A manager?_ ” Aurelia asked the moment Eun Mi slid into the passenger seat. Her English was sprinkled with the seductive accent of a Hispanic woman.

“ _My boyfriend_.”

“ _Your_ what?”

Eun Mi grinned, pleased and proud. “ _His name is Woo Taewoon. His English is better than you think, so be careful about what you say._ ”

“ _If he’s good at English, then I’ll spill all your dirty little secrets!_ ”

Aurelia watched her cousin slightly deflate beside her. “ _I brought him to meet my parents._ ”

Her statement shocked the English right out Aurelia. “ _¿Qué?_ ”

Taewoon folding himself neatly into the back seat put an end to that conversation. Aurelia twisted her body to get a good look at him, but the car behind them was already honking obnoxiously.

“ _Shut up already! Always in a hurry! He just got in!_ ”

Taewoon jumped. The woman behind the wheel taller than Eun Mi by a few inches. She had slick, soft brown hair (obviously dyed, her dark roots were showing, badly), that fell down to her shoulders; short in comparison to her cousin’s. Her voice, however, rang out like thunder; loud, clear, cackling around them.

“Taewoon, seatbelt. They’ll fine you here in the States if you’re not wearing it.”

“Even in the backseat?”

Eun Mi nodded. “It’s the law.”

For the few minutes after the plane had landed, Taewoon had been keeping a tidy tally mark count of all the things that would shock him. He knew it would be impossible to keep it up after he’d seen Eun Mi’s nearly bare shoulders.

He fastened his seatbelt.

“ _Hey, if you’re going to talk in Korean, interpret for me! Not only that, introduce us!_ ” Aurelia continued to shout as she tried to pull them out of the airport’s tight traffic.

“Oppa, will English be okay? I know you’ve been studying, so this could be a good exercise. If you don’t understand something, tell me and I’ll interpret, okay?”

“I will. But, hey, is the ‘oppa’ thing going to be permanent from now on? Or is that just a one-time deal?”

She smiled at him. It was a smile that he could not quite decipher, the kind that made his heart thunder in his chest and his mind focus only on her. Taewoon both loved and hated that smile.

“From here on out, it’s all going to be in English. Okay?”

“I said include me!” Aurelia swerved into the next lane. A car honked angrily behind them. Eun Mi and Taewoon’s hands both gripped the safety handles.

“I’m going! I’m going! Geez! Stop driving like a crazy woman! You’re going to mess up the tires!”

The casual manner in which Eun Mi addressed her made Taewoon wonder if this cousin was the same age as her. It took him a moment to remember how lax the social hierarchies were in America.

“Taewoon, this is Aurelia. She’s my cousin.”

“Howdy cowboy!” Aurelia said in an awful drawl. “I hear you’re Marisol’s beau!”

“H-hi,” Taewoon cast Eun Mi a confused glance. “Beau?”

“It’s a very, very, very old fashioned way of saying boyfriend. Aurelia is a fossil, so she speaks like one. Don’t be surprised if dust starts flying out of her mouth. She’s that old.”

“Hey!”

Taewoon allowed himself a good natured laugh. Eun Mi had spoken slowly, carefully; like that, he had understood everything to near perfection. Also, he had not yet confessed to her just how fluent in English he actually was. That story had to wait until later.

“Yes, I’m her boyfriend. It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Aurelia.”

“Oh please, drop the miss part. I can’t be older than you.”

“You are,” Eun Mi said.

“What? No way!”

“He was born in ’90.”

The truck swerved. Taewoon didn’t know if it was because Aurelia was shocked or because she was that bad of a driver. He honestly feared for his life.

“You’re shitting me! Are you telling me I’m a-a- what’s that word you guys use? _Unnie_! Are you telling me I’m an _unnie_ to that giant in the backseat?!”

“ _Noona_ ,” Eun Mi corrected. “You’re his _noona_. _Unnie_ is the terms girls use. How many times have I told you?”

“A thousand? Maybe two? But that’s beside the point! I’m older than your boyfriend!”

“You’re older than most of us anyway.”

Aurelia looked at Taewoon in the rearview mirror. “Listen to me, kid, in America we don’t use the word _noona_. In fact, it’s banned. Congress banned it just this morning. You call me _noona_ , and you’re dead. Are we clear?”

She had spoken so quickly, Taewoon had missed more than half her words. Eun Mi interpreted, laughing with him.

“Yes, I understand. What do I call you, then?”

“Aurelia. What do I call you? Mari’s _novio_?”

“N-no-what?”

“Spanish for boyfriend.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “I don’t mind that.”

“Call him Taewoon. Woo Taewoon. His name is Woo Taewoon. Taewoon.”

Aurelia merged into the freeway, finally free from the clutches of the airport. “Calm down. What’s got your panties in a knot? Do you know, _Taewoon_?”

He reached over, placing his hand on Eun Mi’s shoulder. She brought her hand up, twining her fingers through his.

He did know. He loved her all the more for it.

* * *

Taewoon could not believe how big, how vast the sky was. It stretched over their heads endlessly, an infinite mantle of pure blue. If he lowered his sunglasses for even a few seconds, its color dazzled him. He didn’t understand how it could be so blue.

“It’s different from Seoul,” he muttered.

“What is?” Aurelia asked.

“The sky,” Eun Mi answered.

The neighborhood Aurelia maneuvered around was quiet, peaceful. The homes were huge, all distinct in their own little ways. Some had red tinted bricks, others were grey, and yet others were whiter than white.

“Do you mind dropping me off first?” Aurelia asked at a four way stop. “It’s infernally hot outside.”

“No problem. Is uncle home?”

Taewoon caught the tightness in Eun Mi’s question, saw Aurelia’s plush lips thin into a single line. She gave her head the tiniest of shakes.

“Stop by for dinner sometime. My mom would like to see your face.”

“Sure.”

There would be no family dinner. Taewoon, usually dense to these matters but greatly attuned to Eun Mi’s voice and its varying tones, could understand the heavy tension that descended into the vehicle as the miasmic nature of a family feud.

Aurelia pulled up before a massive adobe house. It stretched up, trying to touch the American sky with only two stories. There was no front lawn; instead, a xeriscaping garden stretched out, stopping only where the sidewalk came into existence. Cacti decorated the ground here and there, peeking from a pretty arrangement of foreign bushes.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Aurelia said as she jumped out of the pick-up. She looked at Taewoon, saluted him with a grin.

Eun Mi slid behind the wheel, Taewoon’s cue to maneuver over onto the passenger seat. Aurelia’s dark eyebrow shot up.

“You guys sure have it all worked out, haven’t you? No room for anyone between you, huh?”

“Nope.” Eun Mi shut the door. “Come over later.”

“I will.”

That promise rang with the intention of being fulfilled.

Eun Mi waited until Aurelia disappeared inside before driving a few houses down. Taewoon didn’t know what to expect. It was only until he saw a grander, larger, more beautiful adobe home that he realized he had been anticipating one.

Unlike Aurelia’s, this one hardly had any desert shrubs. Tiny patches of green grass decorated the areas of the driveway that weren’t paved, stopping against the adobe fence or surrounding the giant boulders that had been placed upon it.

It was a two story home with Spanish tile roofing and beautiful arched windows. The front door gleamed, a polished wood that possessed a seductive orange tint. The driveway disappeared onto an underground garage. Above it, the grandest of the arched windows rested behind a delicate iron balcony.

Eun Mi didn’t guide them into the underground garage, she simply parked them right out front. For a few moments, all she did was gaze at her childhood home, her eyes glazed over and distant.

“Eun Mi?”

She startled. When she turned to him, he could see that she had momentarily forgotten his presence. He took her hand, kissing her knuckles, his eyes locked on hers. She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a sudden, desperate kiss.

She needed a lifeline and he was it. She needed to remember her present, to prevent her past from sucking her in.

Without the worry of being recognized, without having to look over their shoulders, hide behind dark tinted windows, or in suffocating rooms, they kissed.

It felt right. It felt wrong. Unusual. Liberating.

The strong, cold blast of the air conditioner stung their hot lips. Taewoon pressed his forehead against hers, caressing her face, stroking her hair.

“Anchored?”

“Anchored.”

He kissed her again, softly. She smiled a tiny smile. Then, with the flick of her wrist, she turned off the A/C while she opened the door, propping it open with her foot.

“Help me with the bags, yeah?”

* * *

If the exterior had seemed large, the interior of Eun Mi’s house was huge. The wooden floorboards reflected the sunlight prettily. The wide, arched windows illuminated the rooms perfectly. The walls were decorated with either delicate, near-extravagant ornaments or with family photographs.

In the living room, a large family portrait hung over a chimney (though it proved hard to believe winter existed in this desert).

A happy family of three smiled down at Taewoon. The man had fair skin, a Spanish nose, and small eyes. The woman had dark, wild, curly hair, round cheeks, and playful eyes. The girl between them grinned a grin full of braces, her hair cropped just above her collarbones. Her cheeks showed the early signs of vicious acne. Both adults had her wrapped in a loving embrace. She held onto them with everything she had.

Once upon a time, over late night wine and in between busy schedules, Eun Mi had confided in him how much she hated the idea of plastic surgery. She had not explained why, but now, it was more than clear.

When she looked in the mirror, she saw her parents. She saw her mother in the roundness of her cheeks, her father in the subtle sharpness of her nose. Taewoon could see the resemblance. The man’s sharp edges and the woman’s soft features had produced Eun Mi.

Eun Mi hugged him from behind, clasping her arms around his stomach. She looked at the photograph from around him, resting her chin on his arm, head tilted sideways.

“That’s me, pre-debut.”

He swung his arm behind her, pulling her forward to hold her closer. “How long did you have those scary braces for?”

She ran her tongue over the smooth surface of her teeth, thinking. “About two years?”

“I had mine for about the same time.”

“I didn’t know you had braces.”

“Most people don’t.”

“I should sell this new info to the highest bidder.”

“Who would want to buy such useless information?”

“Me.”

Taewoon held her gaze. Eun Mi held his.

“You’re so cheesy,” he said at length.

“Insert clever pun here!”

She poked him. He twisted violently.

“Hey!”

Eun Mi laughed. “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.”

His room turned out to be a smooth, blue and yellow color schemed, slightly vintage-themed place. It was large enough to hold a full-sized bed, dresser, desk, and beside table. He gave it the once over before turning to Eun Mi.

“Where’s yours?”

“Top of the tower. You’ll need a password to get in. Or maybe you’ll have to solve a riddle.”

He got the feeling she’d just made a reference to something, but he couldn’t quite place it. The long hours of flight were catching up to him. Worse yet was the jetlag that seemed to settle in the core of his being despite the previous night’s rest. He didn’t know how long he could stay on his feet.

“Woon-ah,” Eun Mi whispered, sliding her hand into his. She sounded and looked as tired as he felt. “Let’s change and go visit my parents.”


	31. Desert Storms

It was late afternoon by the time they reached the cemetery. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a bloody light upon the heavens, giving the world an eerie glow. The heat had not decreased. Taewoon continued to feel it on his skin, consciously sensing the tanning of his skin.

Eun Mi walked ahead of him, a bouquet of flowers in her arms. The cemetery really wasn’t much to look at. Green grass grew only around the gravestones, the ground shifting dramatically from the flush vegetation to dry, loose earth. Trees were arranged in long lines across the property, providing shade for those that came to visit the deceased.

Taewoon could not help thinking that the grass grew due to the decomposition of the bodies below. Nor could he help imagining the trees’ roots wrapped around coffins, cracking them to get to the corpses inside.

He followed Eun Mi deep inside the place, down past the endless graves, to a mighty tree. She stopped there, just by the edge of its long shadow. Her eyes were trained on the ground, shoulders slumped.

Taewoon stood behind her. The atmosphere changed; the heat became heavier, the wind stilled. The world stopped moving.

After a few minutes like this, Eun Mi exhaled. She used one hand to tuck her skirt behind her knees as she crouched down, lowering the flowers onto the green grass. Much to Taewoon’s surprise, when she finally spoke, she did it in Korean.

“Mom, have you been well? I brought someone with me today. I’d like for you to meet him.”

Her words indicated that he should step forward and greet her mother. Taewoon approached respectfully. Eun Mi wasn’t Korean, she did not bow to her parents upon greeting them. In fact, Taewoon knew that they had not passed away in the summer time so they could not be observing their memorial day. Feeling slightly disrespectful for not bowing, Taewoon crouched beside Eun Mi.

“Good evening, my name is Woo Taewoon.” He felt Eun Mi lace her fingers through his.

“Mom, he’s my boyfriend. See? You didn’t have to worry.”

Taewoon listened to Eun Mi talk to her mother for a long time. She told her about how CELESTIAL had become successful, more successful than anyone had ever expected. She told her about how Su Jong had dyed his hair all sorts of colors, about how convinced she was that he would end up being bald from all the chemicals in the dyes. Eun Mi told her about their looming comeback and two year anniversary. She told her about how she’d met Taewoon, praising him in ways that he’d never imaged being praised.

“He’s a great man, isn’t he, mom?”

“I’m really not that great,” he opposed. “She’s exaggerating, ma’am.”

Eun Mi bumped him with her shoulder. It caused them both to lose their balance, their legs already tired from crouching for so long. They toppled over, Eun Mi landing over Taewoon’s legs, his boots digging into her side.

He reached over to help her sit up, removing his over shirt so that she could cover her legs and sit more comfortably. Eun Mi smiled. “See, mom? What did I say?”

Taewoon blushed, coughing into the crook of his elbow to disguise his embarrassment. Eun Mi had not yet addressed her father. She had not greeted him, so Taewoon could not greet him either. Once again, Taewoon felt awfully rude for not acknowledging Eun Mi’s father, but unless she did so first, he had to wait.

After a long while, Eun Mi seemed to finish talking to her mother. She turned her body towards her father’s gravestone, her face tight. She reached into her bag, procuring her black belt. Her Korean name had been engraved on one end with the name of Master Park’s dojo in the other.

Unceremoniously, she tossed it towards her father. She didn’t say anything, she simply stared at his name engraved upon the black marble headstone.

It was then that Taewoon learned something deep and dark about Eun Mi: she was haunted by her father.

He’d heard it more than enough times, how she could have become an Olympian, how she had the talent to be a part of the Olympic team if she had simply continued with her training. That talent came from her father, the athlete. The man that lost his opportunity, his one shot at becoming an Olympian.

It wasn’t uncommon for parents to live vicariously through their children. Eun Mi had become the object through which he could accomplish his dreams. The moment Eun Mi had decided to chase after her own, his authority had started haunting her.

“Second _dan_ , daddy,” she said through gritted teeth. “Aren’t you proud?”

Eun Mi turned to Taewoon, a desperate expression contorted her features. “Do you know why they died? They died because they were on their way to pick me up for a special lesson. I was late because my friend’s mother was running late herself. Daddy was furious. He couldn’t wait, so he decided to go pick me up himself.”

She turned back to her father’s grave. “You should have left mommy at home. Why did she have to die, too? If you hadn’t been so short-tempered, if you had just waited, you would both still be alive. Why did mommy have to die too? It was a stupid lesson. Just a stupid lesson. Daddy, _why?_ ”

Eun Mi buried her face in her hands, her body wrecking with sobs. Taewoon inched closer, placing his arms around her shoulders. He could not begin to understand the depth of her grief, the intensity of her regret and resentment.

There was no doubt that she loved her father; even after so many years had passed, she’d continued to honor his memory and dreams by practicing Tae Kwon Do despite her busy schedule. She had not once forgotten him, but she could also not ignore the reason as to why they had been on the streets that day.

Eun Mi had yet to forgive her father for dying.

“My father,” she hiccupped, straightening up in Taewoon’s arms. “My father was a very strict man. Mom always said that his father’s unexpected passing is what caused him to change his lifestyle. He’d already possessed the discipline from his training, so it seemed that losing my grandfather hardened him.

“He wanted to be an Olympian, but he couldn’t do it. When mom became pregnant, he said he wanted a son to train. It took him a while to warm up to me after I was born. I have no pictures of him holding me as a baby.”

Taewoon felt sick upon hearing that. He could not process the idea of how any man would forsake their children, male or female, in any way.

“I guess he got over it when I displayed athleticism as a toddler. I liked Tae Kwon Do, he loved me because I was good. The better I became, the more he seemed to accept me. Isn’t that stupid? Don’t you think that’s stupid?”

He stroked her hair, cupping her face in his large hands. “You don’t want to do it anymore, do you?”

“Do what?”

“Tae Kwon Do. You feel guilty for pursuing your own dreams, don’t you? You feel as if you’re betraying your father by choosing a different path.”

Taewoon could see that Eun Mi’s relationship with her father had been strained further after his death than during his lifetime. Her young mind had been unable to cope with the loss, so it had shut the pain away. He could see how her mind had become so fragile now; she could not, in good conscience, cease her training without somehow feeling as if she were betraying her father.

“Eun Mi-ah,” he said, wiping a fat tear away with his thumb. “ _Marisol_ , you are not betraying anyone. This is your life. You make the rules. Live the way you want to live without apologies. Stop holding on to this. The more you hold on to it, the more toxic it becomes. Grieve your parents. Remember them. But remember that they have passed away. The living must go on living.”

Her eyes were clouded by heavy tears, tears of anguish and misplaced grief. Taewoon stroked her cheeks with gentle fingertips.

Thunder cracked over their heads. Eun Mi screamed, launching herself into his arms. Taewoon’s eyes went wide with surprise, his heart pounding. He looked up at the sky, finding no trace of the scarlet hues that had possessed it when they’d first arrived. Eun Mi peeked up at it from the safety of his embrace, laughing around her tears.

“Desert storm,” she laughed. “We probably won’t see any rain, just thunder and lightning.”

Taewoon cast a weary glance at the tree that marked her parents’ graves. “Then we should move away from all these trees, don’t you think?”

He helped her stand. Eun Mi slipped into his over shirt, nearly disappearing within it. She took her belt from her father’s grave, holding it close to her chest.

She did not say anything for a long time. Thunder boomed over their heads. A lightning bolt struck out to their left. Taewoon marveled at the proximity of such a storm; they could so easily be lost to its force.

Eun Mi said a couple of words to her father in Spanish before asking Taewoon to greet him. He bowed ninety degrees, silently conveying his respect while promising to take care of his daughter.

Eun Mi gave them on last glance before walking away, Taewoon’s hand tightly grasped in hers. The rain crashed down on them halfway back to the truck. It came so suddenly that they were completely drenched by the time they reached the vehicle.

“What kind of psycho weather is this?” Taewoon gasped, shivering in the passenger seat. “What happened to the thunderstorm? I thought you said there’d be no rain!”

“I’m not a meteorologist!”

“You!”

Taewoon reached for her. Eun Mi squealed and ducked away as much as she could. Their teasing wrestling caused them to press the steering wheel, the truck’s honk resounding in the storming cemetery. They screamed their surprise, laughing like idiots.

“We should go. The keeper will close the gates soon.”

“You don’t want to stay here and hunt for ghosts?” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Get an EVP or two?”

Eun Mi’s face paled. She turned the key, reeved the engine, and sped out of there.

* * *

The storm followed them all the way back to the house. Eun Mi, ever the mischievous one, parked the truck out on the street instead of using the garage. Groaning, Taewoon ran out after her, getting soaked once more.

“You’re going to make us sick!”

“Oh like if we have anything important to do.”

“You have your comeback scheduled for next week.”

Eun Mi kicked off her shoes, shaking her hair. Taewoon raised his arms to shield his face then made a grab at her. He took her by the waist, swinging her around.

Somehow, they ended up in the living room, Taewoon finally pinned to the ground after Eun Mi used her Tae Kwon Do skills on him. He tapped out. Eun Mi celebrated by stepping on his butt as she headed for some towels. She charged a kiss a towel when she returned.

“How are you feeling?” Taewoon inquired. He bowed his head, allowing her to dry his hair.

“Better. Something you said back there made a lot of sense. I think, back then, I didn’t know how to get over the initial shock of their deaths. And with all the legal problems, I didn’t have the chance to grieve them.”

“Legal problems?”

Taewoon sat her on his lap, gently soaking up the dampness from her hair. He felt her nod.

“I lost this house when my parents passed. It wasn’t yet paid in full and the bank repossessed it. Aunt Minha was off at school, so I stayed with my dad’s brother. I didn’t have much, the things that used to be mine were put into storage for the time being. The only thing I could really inherit was my dad’s dojo.”

“Your father had a dojo?”

“Broke his back earning money for it. He only managed to pay it off because his classes were so good. It was the best dojo in town.”

Taewoon could see where this was headed. It did not surprise him in the least when she said her uncle had then attempted to sell the only thing she’d had to her name. A nasty legal battle ensued once Minha caught wind of it. She’d flown back from grad school to protect her goddaughter’s property.

After a while, Minha realized that the only way to prevent him from selling the property was to become Eun Mi’s legal guardian, the fight for her followed. Minha won custody of her goddaughter, the dojo stayed open, and she took Eun Mi with her to Mexico while she finished grad school.

“What happened with the dojo?”

“It remained open. Master Choi took over.”

“Choi?”

Eun Mi pressed her back against his chest, taking his arms and wrapping them around herself. “He’s a Korean immigrant. We come from all places, y’know? Just up until last year, the neighbors were from South Africa. Anyway, he had amazing credentials. Taught the Marines back in South Korea and stuff.”

“I’m kind of scared of this man now.”

“You should be. He’s a scary guy, but a good teacher.”

“Is he still there?”

“Kind of. He doesn’t teach anymore, but he’s still overseeing the dojo. He couldn’t believe it when I first talked to him in Korean. He looked at me as if I’d been possessed!”

He leaned against the sofa, his cheek resting on Eun Mi’s head. “How long where you in Mexico?”

“Not very long. Auntie decided to go to Korea one summer and I was street casted.”

Something in her voice gave him pause. “Eun Mi?”

“Woon-ah,” she twisted around, sitting sideways on his lap, her eyes wider than usual. “Have you ever regretted becoming an idol?”

Taewoon didn’t flinch at the question; he’d seen it coming. He’d seen it coming because he had, in fact, wondered the very same thing more than once.

“I think we all regret becoming a celebrity once or twice.”

Eun Mi blinked at him. He knew she could tell he was not telling her everything. He hugged her closer, pressing his cheek against her head.

And so Taewoon told her of the time he’d just about given up on his artistic career.

It had all started back when Co-Ed School had gone under fire. In between lawsuits, police investigations, and member fights, Taewoon had resumed his college education.

Returning to school, studying for the TOEIC, spending more hours in the language academy than the practice room wasn’t a crime—except that it had felt like one.

He had not prepared so ardently for grad school so that he may return to it later after all his idol activities were done. Taewoon had been preparing himself to leave the industry.

“‘I’ll go as far as I can,’ I said. ‘I’ll practice as much as I can, fight for this as long as I can.’”

With so much down time in between comebacks, Taewoon managed to make his way into one of the best grad schools for business management. He went in fully intending to leave the industry behind.

Taewoon had gone ahead with the execution of Plan B; in case he didn’t debut, in case Co-Ed School and SPEED failed, in case he failed.

“You have an MBA?” Eun Mi drew back, eyes wide. “And you passed the TOEIC?”

“Yeah.”

She paused. “What was your score?”

“I…don’t remember.”

“Woon-ah!”

“About 880?”

“That’s really high! Wait,” she gasped, smacking his shoulder. “That means you’re fluent in English!”

“I wouldn’t say fluent. I haven’t really been practicing.”

Taewoon reached for her hair, entangling his fingers in the silky waves. Eun Mi’s excitement died down at the sight of his expression.

“What did you plan to do with your degree?”

“I planned to work for my uncle. He has no sons, and he wants one of us to take over the company.”

“Okay, first of all, how damned sexist. I bet his daughter would be a badass CEO if she wanted to.”

“I agree. She has a good sense for business.”

She rewarded him with a sweet kiss, pressing her hand to his cheek, caressing it softly with her thumb.

“Secondly, why didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t I go work for him?”

She nodded. Taewoon sighed.

“Because I wanted to give my dreams another chance. I wanted to give it my all, not just a half-assed attempt like I’d been doing up until then. I wanted to make sure that I could say I tried everything to become successful alongside SPEED.”

He fell silent abruptly. His hand came up to take hers as he leaned his face into her palm, closing his eyes. His voice was hardly above a whisper when he finally spoke.

“Should I give up? Should I go work for my uncle now that I’m no longer in the running for _Show Me the Money_ and MBK terminated my contract?”

Taewoon locked his gaze with hers. This was the first time Eun Mi heard that the company had cut him loose. His grip on her hand tightened, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Quit.”

“W-what?”

“Quit. You didn’t make it in _Show Me the Money_ , you’re not under a label. Quit. Go work for your uncle.”

Taewoon stared at her for a few stunned seconds, dropping his hand to his side before looking away. Something dark, nasty, had crept around the base of his stomach; the aching sense of betrayal.

Eun Mi smiled a tiny smile. She scooped up his hands into hers, kissing his knuckles ever so softly.

“See? You can’t really quit, can you? Why do you keep wondering such useless things when we both know it’s impossible for you to quit? There is nothing wrong with having a Plan B. It’s smart to have a Plan B because you can throw yourself in fearlessly.

“Thinking ‘If all else fails, I have this,’ is okay. Worrying, doubting, sacrificing, all of that is alright. You’re entitled to that. You’re entitled to pursue your dreams. Taewoon, you have just as much chance at success as anyone. The first few tries might not have worked out the way you wanted them to, but the next one might.”

She hugged him gently, cuddling against his chest. His shirt was still damp from the rain, a reminder of the day’s events. Eun Mi closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to turn back the hands of time, to give him another opportunity during the competition.

“You’ve worked very hard,” she whispered. “Don’t give up.”

If Taewoon gave up, where would that leave her?

Eun Mi had not worked even a fourth as hard as Taewoon had. She’d long ago suspected that that street casting had been part of an elaborate plan concocted between her aunt and the CEO. Her aunt had been desperate to rekindle the passion that Eun Mi had lost throughout the years after her parents’ passing. So desperate, that she’d asked her employer to give her goddaughter an opportunity as a trainee.

It had worked. Eun Mi had emerged from her shell. Now, aside from feeling as if she’d stolen someone else’s opportunity, she felt as if it had simply been given to her in a silver platter.

Was she really talented enough to be a part of CELESTIAL or had her uncle merely taken pity on her once more?

“You shouldn’t give up, either,” Taewoon said suddenly. “Things have been difficult for you lately. Don’t give them the gratification of seeing you waver. You’re the most beautiful when you’re up on stage.”

He’d said the last part in barely a whisper, not because he’d been shy about what he’d said, but because the mere thought of Eun Mi singing her heart out during CELESTIAL’s stage in _Music Bank_ in Hanoi took his breath away, his skin breaking out in goosebumps.

“I want to see you on stage,” he said.

Eun Mi swallowed the lump in her throat. Somehow, his words gave her the push she needed to take another step, even if it was only a step that would carry her momentum forward while she staggered about. Taewoon wasn’t a magical creature that could solve all her issues, but he sure as heck got close enough to one.  


	32. Blood Rose

Nam Eun Kyung camped out in her favorite café, her text books spread out before her. She drank her chocolatey drink in gulps, scratching the nape of her neck every so often, a tic that had been developed while studying.

She kept one earbud in, her favorite SPEED songs on replay. They kept her sane while she attempted to get ahead on her studies.

A body fell into the chair before her. Eun Kyung choked on her drink, coughing. She gawked at the woman sitting before her.

The woman had dyed black hair cropped short. So short, in fact, that Eun Kyung could see her scalp clearly in some parts. It stuck up in a thousand different directions as if someone had taken an angry pair of scissors to them.

Her eyes were wide, wild, with dark purple bags underneath and haphazardly applied eyeliner on her lids. Her lips were bright red, contrasting with her pasty, yellowing skin. Her nails were bitten short, cuticles showing glaring signs of abuse. She dressed baggy, her clothes several sizes too big for her wiry frame.

“B-Blood Rose unnie?”

“Shh!” the woman hissed. She tried Eun Kyung with her gaze. Something in it made her skin prickle nervously.

“Are you still doing it?” she asked. When Eun Kyung didn’t reply, she pounded the table with an angry fist. “Hey! Did you give up so soon? What happened to your so called love? Huh!”

Eun Kyung felt her cheeks heat up, the shame consuming her alive. Slowly, eyes fixed on them, she gathered up her notebooks.

“Hey! Did you really give up?”

“I couldn’t do it,” Eun Kyung whispered.

She reached out, snatching her notebook out of her hand. “Did you get caught? If you don’t get caught there’s no problem!”

Eun Kyung reclaimed her notebook with some difficulty, shoving it in her bag. “What you do is wrong. I must have lost my senses when I listened to you.”

“I do it out of love!”

“Love?” Eun Kyung sneered. “That’s not love. Intruding in their lives the way you do, following them every minute of every day, waiting for them outside their homes, all while letting your own life fall to pieces, that’s not love.”

Blood Rose glared. “Who do you think you are to be talking to me this way? You’re nothing but a snotty high school kid! Without me, you would still be nothing! All those moments in which Zico’s hyung noticed you, I’m the one responsible for them!”

“His name is Woo Taewoon! And I don’t need to stalk him to be noticed!”

People were starting to give them strange looks now, muttering amongst themselves. Eun Kyung, still in her school uniform, wished to avoid unwanted attention. She’d been in enough trouble for the solitary month in which she’d attempted to intrude in Taewoon’s personal life.

Her grades had slipped terribly, dropping from the top ten students to the last fifty. Her mother always yelled at her for it, as if grades were the most important thing in the world, as if being the top student would make her happy. It had become especially bad once she started skipping school altogether.

Eun Kyung had achieved being noticed only once by Taewoon. He spent so much time inside the company, his studio, or home that she never really did manage to accomplish anything. The one time Taewoon had noticed her was when he sent her home.

The preoccupation on his face had so broken her heart, Eun Kyung had abandoned such unhealthy foolishness. She could not bring herself to continue knowing that she could be contributing to his hardships.

She’d become a healthy fan, started everything properly and supported him from afar. She’d blocked Blood Rose’s number, and when she’d found different ways to get to her, she’d changed her number and KakaoTalk ID completely.

Eun Kyung felt ashamed and foolish for ever having listened to Blood Rose. She should have known better from how her fansite had been boycotted and her name blacklisted. There had been so many telling aspects that should have made Eun Kyung turn tail and run. But she had been desperately crushing on Taewoon, so she had listened and allowed Blood Rose to egg her on.

“I have to go.”

“Why? Do you have an exam? Is that what you’re doing now?” Blood Rose cackled. “Have you gone back to being the good daughter your parents wanted? What ever will you accomplish like that? You need to place yourself front and center!”

Blood Rose took her by the wrist, pulling her arm hard. “You think he will notice you if you’re a good kid?”

Eun Kyung snatched her hand away, stepping away, afraid by the crazed glaze that clouded her eyes. “What I do with my life is none of your business. Leave me alone. Leave him alone. Leave all of us alone. Worry about your own life.

“Just look at you. Do you even have a place to stay? I bet you’re bumming off others. If you came to ask for money, I won’t give you anything.”

“This !”

Blood Rose slammed the table as she stood. Eun Kyung felt the damp, icy stickiness of her drink splash against her face, drenching her white uniform, running down her grey skirt. People gasped, some raised their phones to take photographs.

“Don’t take pictures,” Eun Kyung warned, her voice steely. “I’m underage and a student. I will be sure to sue anyone that posts videos or pictures online.”

“Bragging about your affluent background, are you?” Blood Rose said. “It’s because of rich s like you that the rest of us are looked down upon. What good is all that money if you don’t use it properly? If I had that much money—”

“You would do what? Buy expensive cameras? Hire better cabs to tailgate? One of these days, you will get in so much trouble, _unnie_ ,” she spat the word, making it more of an insult than a term of endearing respect. “You’ll cause him more harm than anyone else. And I hope you regret it for the rest of your life. People like you, you have no humanity left in you.”

Blood Rose screamed. She dug her hands in her hair, pulling chunks out. The craziness that Eun Kyung had noticed before became undeniable. An evil, dark premonition prickled her mind, ran chillingly down her spine.

She turned.

“Just you wait! I’ll prove all of you wrong! He will notice me!”

Eun Kyung gulped. She kept walking, leaving the crazy ex-fansite master behind. Somehow, she felt the need to warn them. But, as only a fan, there was not much she could do. Worry chewed at her stomach.

She had to warn them. She had to say something. She had to.

Eun Kyung wondered if the police would listen. Changing direction, she hurried down to the nearest station. It was worth a shot.

Right?


	33. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Knives, some blood, mild injuries!! Proceed with caution.

 

Tae Jun missed Eun Mi. Whenever she was gone, her absence resonated throughout their daily schedules as if amplified by the knowledge that her annual visit to the States could make the end of their time with her.

Casually filming _Follow the Leader_ had become a challenge. Zico had never been as careful around him as he was now. While he might have never interacted with Eun Mi much, he had interacted with the other leaders well enough that they noticed his sudden change in attitude. As his roommate, Tae Jun attempted to get him to talk about what was bothering him. However, it became apparent that what had him in such a solemn mood had something to do with Eun Mi, otherwise Zico would not have avoided him.

Tae Jun was not responsible for Zico. He let him be.

Tae Jun also found himself cautiously rejecting Gyuri’s timid flirtations behind the scenes. He had no doubt that it must have taken her a while to gather up the courage to try. Finding himself in no position to accept anyone’s advances, Tae Jun had, as gently as he could, informed her of his unavailability. While her goddess-like image glowed on stage and before cameras, Tae Jun felt a little guilty for hurting the gentle girl that showed herself only behind the scenes.

Gyuri assured him that it had only been for the sake of the program, but he could see the lie in her eyes, hear it in the quiver of her voice. As professional as Gyuri was, she did not avoid him so as to prevent scandals and rumors.

Every resident of HQ felt Eun Mi’s absence in their own personal way, yet Tae Jun always realized how much he relied on her during this time. Only she seemed to understand him, though Tae Jun suspected he did not understand her much at all.

Sitting in B.Star Ent.’s practice room watching CELESTIAL practice, Tae Jun wondered if Eun Mi would return to them.

Su Jong led the practice, taking the center as he directed the girls alongside DAEE. With their comeback preparations already more than done, CELESTIAL went through the motions. Ienna’s feet had healed nicely, quickly. They’d put off changing their hairstyles until Eun Mi returned, wishing to witness the moment that she decided whether she’d finally do something different and colorful with her hair or not.

The usual teasing and joking had been cast aside, more to the nervous uncertainty than to their professional sides.

“Su Jong oppa, when is Eun Mi unnie coming back?” Ienna asked.

“Sometime later this week. Or early next?”

Ienna pouted, quitting halfway through the dance. “I’m not practicing without her. She’ll be behind when she gets back!”

Su Jong took her by the arms, attempting to pull her up. Ienna made herself heavy, making him work for it. Eventually, he pulled her up, a scowl on his face.

“Eun Mi has been practicing every day while she’s been away. All of you need to stop thinking she’s not coming back.”

He glared at each and every one of them, accusation burning in his eyes. His eyes settled on Tae Jun as well, condemning him for doubting Eun Mi.

“How can you be so sure?”

Everyone turned to Kain as he entered the practice room. He held a bag of snacks in one hand, his posture casual yet challenging.

“You don’t know what Eun Mi could be going through. She is a foreigner among friends,” he said, handing each girl a drink. “Perhaps she misses her old life. With everything that has been going on lately, could you blame her?”

His words so shook Ienna that she made a dive for her cellphone, frantically sending a message to her leader and friend. The other three exchanged nervous glances, fearing what the desertion of their leader would entail.

Su Jong glared up at Kain, his blue eyebrows drawn together fiercely. Tae Jun saw the tattletale signs of a fight in Su Jong’s twitching hands.

“You think you know her so well, don’t you?” Su Jong growled. “Just because you are a _foreigner_ , too?”

Kain shrugged, his nonchalance burning Su Jong’s already short match. “You think you know her because you’re her ‘best friend’?”

Su Jong’s arms twitched. CELESTIAL flinched. Tae Jun was between them in a second, pushing them both away.

“You,” he pointed his finger at Su Jong, his eyes steely. “Keep those fists under control. And you,” he turned to Kain, his finger coming close to his face, “stop instigating him. Now, I don’t know what has gotten into all of you, but I would like to kindly remind each and every one of you that what Eun Mi does with her life is none of our business.”

Tae Jun’s steady eyes swept everyone in the room up. “I understand that we are all worried about Eun Mi, especially with the recent events and the news of her relationship. Whatever she decides to do, it’s up to her.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

CELESTIAL squealed upon seeing Eun Mi glide through the door. They tackled her in embraces, throwing her glasses askew. Tae Jun’s shoulders visibly relaxed. Still, he cast a glance at both boys, promising a stern talking to in the dorm later.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Tae Jun inquired.

“Want me to get back on the plane? I’m sure it’s still back at the airport just waiting for me.”

Su Jong pushed the girls aside, taking Eun Mi up in a tight bear hug. “Move away ladies, she’s _mine_.”

Eun Mi said nothing as he rubbed his cheek against hers, her hands on his forearms, eyes focused intently on Kain. He shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Glad to have you back.”

“Mm, I’m back.”

Su Jong detected the tattletale strain in her voice that indicated some family matters had driven her back to Korea earlier than anticipated. She looked tired, as if she’d rushed out of the country without getting a chance to rest beforehand.

His hand slid from the top of her head to the back of her neck, giving a gentle squeeze. It promised dried squid and a couple bottles of soju. Eun Mi granted him a fleeting look, a language of friendship that only they were privy to.

“Did you bring me Mexican candy?” Su Jong wiggled his eyebrows, diffusing the last of the remaining tension in the room.

“Yeah. I left the boxes in the car.”

“Boxes?” ReNA perked up. “What boxes?”

Eun Mi rolled her eyes. “Don’t act as if you didn’t expect me to bring back everything you kids asked for.”

A cheer went up, limbs twisted around her, embracing her in frivolous joy. Eun Mi allowed them to worship her for a few moments before she waved them away.

“Unnie, I bet you’re hungry,” Ienna said. “Should I order _jajangmyeon_?”

“Order whatever you girls want. You’ve been working hard. I’ll go grab the stuff from the car, alright?”

“I’ll go with you,” DAEE offered.

Tae Jun sighed. “Call the guys over. I’ll pay for the food.”

A second cheer went up into the air. He offered a one shouldered shrug, running his hand through his hair. The members tackled him in a grateful embrace, all except Kain who went to sulk in a corner.

Tae Jun made a mental note to check up on him later. He prayed that his worries would be centered on his place in the group, in the world of K-Pop. Tae Jun greatly hoped that Kain had not gotten himself involved with anyone.

By the time Ienna had placed orders to four different locations, Dae Hyun and Dae Jung had found their way into the practice room while Eun Mi and DAEE headed down to the parking garage.

“Hey, hey, won’t be get in trouble for ditching our practice schedule?” Dae Jung asked as he flung himself onto ReNA’s back. She bit his forearm without hesitation, forcing him off her. Dae Hyun yawned as if his brother’s antics bored him.

“We can blame Eun Mi if we get in trouble,” Su Jong said. “They won’t really get mad at us like that.”

“Don’t use my unnie for your own selfish purposes!” Ienna jumped at him, placing him in a headlock. Su Jong didn’t bat an eyelash; Ienna’s strength was nothing compared to Eun Mi’s. He let her hang on him until she grew tired.

“Where’s Ryouta?” Tae Jun asked.

“Hmm?” Dae Hyun looked around. “He ran down to the parking garage a while back. Said he forgot his tablet in the car.”

“Oh, then he can help Eun Mi unnie and DAEE with the boxes!” Chae said.

An ill feeling made Tae Jun’s skin prickle. “CELESTIAL, practice a few more rounds before we take a break. L6, you do too.”

“What? A general practice now?” they whined.

“Yes. Now. And unless you want to practice seriously for the next five hours, do it right.”

There was no need to tell them twice. Tae Jun heard them depositing their cellphones in the joint practice basket. Su Jong quickly organizing them as he selected the routines to run through. The sound of the practice room lock clicking into place as the door shut behind him followed Tae Jun all the way down to the parking garage.

What Tae Jun expected to find was Ryouta helping the girls out with the boxes. He expected this uneasy feeling was once again wrong; Eun Mi was the intuitive one, not Tae Jun. What he did not expect to find was Ryouta and DAEE huddled together behind Eun Mi’s protective stance. He did not expect to see a young woman holding up a box knife up to Eun Mi’s face, her hands shaking, her eyes crazed.

* * *

DAEE tagged along after Eun Mi, elated at her return. She looped her arm through hers, nearly skipping down to the parking garage.

Eun Mi, previously so intolerant of physical touch, allowed her to stick close to her. DAEE felt giddy from the closeness. She could smell Eun Mi’s shampoo, a clean, prickly scent of mint scented herbs. She really loved the scents that swirled around Eun Mi, they were strong and feminine. Eun Mi smelled like the type of woman DAEE wanted to be.

“How are you, DAEE?” she asked.

“Hm? I’m doing good! It’s just been a little difficult waiting around when all the preparations are done.”

“Mm, I’m sorry about that, DAEE. It’s all unnie’s fault.”

DAEE backtracked, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “N-no! I didn’t mean it like that!”

Eun Mi gave her a reserved smile. It was a smile that said that DAEE had said nothing wrong, an apology for something she had no control over.

“Unnie,” DAEE begged, “it really is not like that! I just meant that I’m getting impatient. I want to be back on stage, giving it my all, working hard. I don’t blame you for anything. No one does.”

Her words were met with another smile. Eun Mi gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “I know I’m a very problematic person. I must give you girls a really hard time. I’ll try my best to a bit less troublesome so that CELESTIAL can meet with A.Borealis sooner.”

Though there was no bitterness in her words, they left an unpleasant taste in DAEE’s mouth. She didn’t know what to say to dispel Eun Mi’s dark thoughts, she was not Su Jong. They walked in silence for a couple of minutes before DAEE decided that the best thing to do was to ignore their previous conversation.

“Unnie, they changed our choreo while you were gone.”

The shock almost caused Eun Mi to face-plant into the ground. “W-what?!”

DAEE grinned. “The center changed, so we had to change several things to accommodate it.”

“Why?” Already, DAEE could see beads of sweat forming on her brow, her hands shaking nervously. “DAEE, you’re going to have to help me out. I don’t think I’ll be able to learn it all before the MV filming! Oh, but wait, I’ll be okay…I’m always on the side, so it shouldn’t be such a difference unless there’s new moves.”

DAEE giggled. “Unnie, you’re the center.”

This time, Eun Mi did trip over her own feet. She broke her fall with expert hands, avoiding scrapes or injury. “W-what?!”

“Well, we figured since that one anti hates you so much, we could piss them off by placing you front and center. Show them that they won’t kick you out of your own heaven, unnie.”

Eun Mi accepted DAEE’s helping hand, her eyes regarding her in that way that always made DAEE nervous. DAEE gave her hand a squeeze, swallowing the nervous feeling that threatened to seep through. “Fight them head on, unnie.”

After a few seconds, Eun Mi laughed. “You guys are insane! How can you put _me_ , the _woodblock_ , front and center?”

Trotting alongside her, DAEE assured her how much her dancing had improved. “Especially now that you’ve been practicing extra hard with N _sunbaenim_. I should ask him for teaching advice. Not even Su Jong oppa managed to help you improve so much.”

“Hey! Su Jong helped plenty! I was a lost case before he arrived! Honestly, they were thinking about kicking me out.”

The notion of Eun Mi, B.Star Ent.’s most beloved trainee, walking the tight rope due to her two left feet made DAEE roll her eyes. She couldn’t help it. Eun Mi was the favorite, she’d always been. They would have never cut her out of the program.

The parking lot felt stuffy, hot, the same way it always did. Eun Mi paused, a shiver running down her spine. DAEE looked at her inquisitively, recognizing the frown on her lips for what it was: a bad omen.

“Unnie?”

“I got a very bad feeling just now,” Eun Mi said. “Be extra careful, alright DAEE? Make sure to walk carefully.”

DAEE nodded.

Eun Mi’s intuition was a scary thing. No one understood how it could be so accurate or intense, least of all Eun Mi. She’d learned long ago that ignoring it usually lead to bigger, disastrous, consequences.

Once, Ienna had suggested that maybe Eun Mi possessed some ancient powers that were a sliver of her Aztec heritage, the last of a Witch-Doctor’s paranormal abilities. The idea had sounded preposterous then and even now—but if DAEE were honest, if any of them were honest, sometimes, Ienna’s crazy idea seemed like the most plausible explanation of them all.

“What did you bring this time?”

The sound of the van’s doors opening echoed throughout the parking garage. The waxed, white floor made Eun Mi squint every time. She ducked inside, reaching for the spoils.

She turned around, handing her a long box that weighed hardly anything. “Oh, just some _Cachetadas_ , _Carlos V_ , some _Rockaletas_ , and _Dubalines_. Oh yeah, that box has Kain’s _Bubu Lubus_. I don’t understand how he likes them so much.”

DAEE’s eyes glowed with merriment. “Unnie, did you bring ca- _cajeta_? Did I say that right?”

Eun Mi gave her a big grin. “Yup! I keep telling you to take Spanish courses, DAEE. You have a knack for it!”

“You think so? I mean, I struggle through English…”

“Spanish and English are two _very_ different things.”

DAEE grinned, a sudden idea occurring to her. “Unnie! What if we record a song in Spanish?”

“You’re crazy.”

“No, no! What if for CELESTIAL’s anniversary, we make little goodie bags for the fans with all sorts of Mexican candy and sing in Spanish? Don’t you think they would like that?”

Eun Mi wasn’t so sure. She mulled the idea over, but decided against agreeing or disagreeing. She couldn’t impose her culture or language on A.Borealis. Though the truth of the matter was that A.Borealis were in fact very curious about her culture, Eun Mi had returned feeling a little more than disheartened by how different she was from the other members.

“Noona!” Ryouta’s voice called out, saving her from having to answer DAEE’s proposition on the spot.

He jogged up to them, his tablet in hand. His silver hair had grown long enough that his roots were in bad need of a touch up, his bangs catching in his eyelashes when he blinked. He grinned at them, his sharp incisors contrasting with the cute, deep dimple on his left cheek.

“Oh, Ryouta-yah,” Eun Mi gifted him the special smile she reserved just for him. It made the corners of her eyes and the bridge of her nose crinkle; no one else could ever achieve that kind of smile. Everyone suspected it had something to do with the fact that they had begun their training period around the same time, struggled through Korean together.

“You’re back so soon! Did something happen? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Here, kiddo, help out.” She tossed another box at him, this one smaller but heavier than the one she’d given to DAEE.

“Ah!” Ryouta juggled the box and tablet. Grinning widely when he managed to regain his balance. “Got it!”

“Good kid!” Eun Mi stood on her toes, reaching to ruffle his hair. Ryouta grinned like a child. DAEE swore that if he’d had a fluffy tail, he’d be wagging it excitedly upon receiving praise.

“You’re such a er for Eun Mi unnie,” DAEE teased.

He stuck his tongue out at her. “She’s the best noona.”

Eun Mi gave them a single laugh, shaking her head at their bickering. She opened her mouth to scold them, but Ryouta’s expression darkened within seconds. A pair of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him back, away from his label mates.

“ _Ryouta-kun_.”

Quickly, he tossed the box and his tablet back to Eun Mi. She caught them, threw them in the van, silently motioning for DAEE to leave the box she carried. DAEE, however, was too focused on the slender artifact the stalker held in one hand.

Ryouta placed his hands on the stalker’s arms, grabbing her wrists as he twisted out of her embrace. The girl staggered back as he leapt forward, turning his back to the girls, spreading his arms out protectively.

Now that he saw her face, he recognized her as the stalker that had been following him around since late February. His blood chilled as heavy beads of sweat began to form on his brow.

People like her scared Ryouta. She’d given up a part of her humanity by trespassing into a part of his life that was _meant_ to remain private. No matter how much of a public figure he was, no matter how much he depended on the fans’ love to succeed, no one, _absolutely no one_ , had the right to intrude into his life, to steal his security, the way this girl was doing.

His entire body shook. From anger, fear, distaste, distrust—Ryouta could not be sure which emotion caused such a violent reaction.

It took him a moment to realize that Eun Mi had slipped past his defenses, taking a stand between them and the stalker.

“How did you get in here?” she demanded, her voice sending chills down their backs. When the girl didn’t reply, she shouted, “Answer me!”

The stalker yelped, yet instead of backing down, she raised her hands. Her thumb pushed the thin blade out of its plastic shield. The bright lights overhead made it glint desperately.

“M-move out of the way, s-,” she said. “I’m not here for y-you.”

“Clearly.”

“G-give me Ryouta-kun and I w-won’t hurt you.”

Eun Mi’s eyes narrowed. Her left foot sliding back into a fighting stance, her fists lightly clenched. “I’m not giving you anything.”

“I’ll kill you! I swear I will!”

Ryouta took a step forward. The stalker’s eyes widened, her lips twitching. “See? He wants me too. Come with me, Ryouta-kun.”

DAEE dropped the box she was holding, taking Ryouta’s arm in hers, pulling him away from the crazed woman. “He’s not going anywhere!”

Her declaration, along with her sudden action, caused Ryouta to stumble back, away from Eun Mi and the stalker into DAEE’s embrace. The sight of DAEE hugging him to her caused the stalker to release a shrill scream.

Several things happened at once: Eun Mi shouted at them to get out of there and call the cops, the stalker charged at Eun Mi with the box knife, swinging it wildly, and Tae Jun appeared out of nowhere.

He pushed Eun Mi away, raising his arm against the rushing blade. It sliced through his sleeve, lacerating his forearm in a vicious curve. At the sight of blood, the stalker shrieked, dropping her weapon as she staggered back, and DAEE fainted in Ryouta’s arms.

Eun Mi kicked the fallen knife out of reach before apprehending the stalker. She shouted for security, glaring at Tae Jun as she instructed him to either call the cops or apply pressure on his wound.

Her anger code switched her back to Spanish. She ranted furiously at Tae Jun in words he could not comprehend, then ranted furiously at the security team that arrived just minutes before the police. She ranted beside the paramedics that were patching Tae Jun up, only just resisting the urge to punch him for being so careless.

“How could you jump in like that? Are you stupid? Does it make sense?”

“Does it make sense that you’re angry at me right now?”

“I have training in self-defense! Years and years of it! You think a flimsy box cutter would have been difficult to handle? I have a second _dan_ , _a second dan_! I could have handled it!”

“Sure, yes, you could have handled it!” Tae Jun finally shouted back. “But did it even occur to you that you might have been over confident? Why the hell would you engage her like that?!”

The paramedic, tired of their bickering, applied forceful pressure on Tae Jun’s wound. It hurt him enough to make him wince, silencing them both.

“Does it hurt?” Eun Mi asked, her eyes softening.

“No,” he said, his teeth gritting. “Just a sting.”

“You’re going to have to get a tetanus shot at the hospital,” the paramedic said. “That blade did hardly any damage, but it could have contained rust. It’s best if we’re safe.”

“Yes, thank you, sir.”

The paramedic gave them both a nod before heading over to check on DAEE. The leaders caught sight of the CEO accompanied by a pair of officers heading their way.

They released unanimous sighs, equal headaches pulsing behind their temples.

“We can’t charm our way out of this one.” Eun Mi groaned.

“The media will have a field day.”

“I should have stayed in the States.”

“I should have gone with you.”

“Maybe if we pretend like we didn’t see anything…”

“Or if I fake some pain…”

“Choi Tae Jun! Song Eun Mi!”

Swallowing their groans, squaring their shoulders, the leaders readied themselves to bear the full weight of the situation. Again. 


	34. Beautiful Tragic Love Affari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: HALLUCINATIONS

Ryouta waited for Eun Mi and Tae Jun to finish giving their statements. He tapped his foot on the waxed floor, inspecting the intricate laces on his sneakers. The tip of the sole showed obvious signs of abuse, no doubt from the countless times he’d missed a step or two during practice. His scalp felt itchy from the lack of a wash. He blew his bangs out of his eyes, annoyed at how they caught in his eyelashes.

They had not been there for long, perhaps an hour or two. The sun still shone brightly, pouring in through the windows. Ryouta always found it strange how many windows police stations had. He supposed they were there for quick escapes from fires or to aid snipers if the need arose.

There was no love lost between Ryouta and police stations. He could feel his lungs darken with every breath he took within one. Too many angry cops, too many lazy ones, too many women beat black and blue and still claiming that they fell down the stairs or tripped on their way out. Too many tied hands, too many criminals, too many lies and broken promises.

He checked his watch. Five minutes had ticked by.

Exhaling, Ryouta pushed himself up, raking his hands through his silver hair. His fingertips came away glossy. He would have to wash his hair tonight. He wondered if the water would also wash away the phantom touch of that psychotic girl.

His phone buzzed with notifications; mentions from Twitter and Instagram. A constant in his life, today Ryouta found it annoying beyond belief. With an irritated sigh, he accessed both accounts, reading a few comments before silencing the notifications on both. When he would ever turn them back on, there was no way of telling.

AMORES still believed in him in a way no one else had or ever would believe in him again. He’d betrayed them, though he could not quite bring himself to believe that he had. Because the word _betray_ was not what his actions meant. They still thought that he loved them. And he did. But it had become much more complicated than that.

It wasn’t that Ryouta did not appreciate the cheers or crave the worshipping love that they offered, he simply loved someone much more. Loved DAEE much more.

She dwelled outside him. She dwelled within him. An existence beyond himself that was like he, like the person he wanted to become. She did not look like him; she looked like his soul, or rather, what his soul yearned for.

“Are we being selfish?” she had asked.

“No,” he’d replied. _Yes_ , he’d thought.

Despite her tough exterior, DAEE was fragile. Her heart resided permanently on her sleeve. Hearing the truth would take her away from him. Ryouta could not understand why the truth had to be something so complicated or why it would hurt more than the lies they told.

Why did they have to hide? Why did they have to reveal anything to their members? Why couldn’t it simply _be_? Owing an explanation to their members, AMORES, and A.Borealis—why did they have to _owe_ them anything?

The disgust made its slow trajectory crawl through his body, settling at the pit of his stomach. At times like these, Ryouta vividly felt the mask that peeled from his face.

It was something rather nasty; a mask so firmly attached it pulled his flesh along with it as it fell. Ryouta had developed the habit of touching his face with nervous fingertips throughout the course of the year. Once or twice, he’d seen thick, black ooze that mimicked the consistency of blood on those very same nervous fingers. It had scared him half to death, but after a few blinks and one of Eun Mi’s teas, he’d calmed down.

They weren’t serious enough, these hallucinations of his. Not yet. He would get help. Later. Once things quieted down, once the stalker and Eun Mi’s anti-fan had been put behind bars, once L6 safely delivered their first concert. Once all of those things happened, Ryouta would seek help. Until then, all he had to do was blink the black blood away and hold up half of his face so that it wouldn’t make a bloody black mess on the floor.

He pressed his fingers to his cheeks, sliding them up, holding the mask in place. He could hear the sticky sound of reattaching flesh, smell the oozing fluids that poured from his pores. The mask was still there.

And AMORES kept making him bleed.

* * *

Tae Jun ran his hands through his hair, rings catching. He sighed, exasperated with the unending, roundabout interrogation.

“For the millionth time, I do not know this girl personally. None of our members do.”

“Don’t you idol kids know all of your fans? C’mon, where could she have gotten the idea that Aoi Ryouta wanted her to be his girlfriend if not from the kid himself?”

The officer, one with a particularly loud distaste for idols, continued to pressure him. Tae Jun knew manipulation when he saw it; this cop in particular wanted him to say something that would incriminate him, Ryouta, or any other L6 member.

Tae Jun glared at the man before him, cursing him to the pits of the Abyss where all demons and fiends dwelled. He would feel right at home, this one would.

The questions he’d asked Eun Mi had been short, quick. From the way in which he’d slowed down as he spoke it had been clear that he thought Eun Mi deficient in the Korean language. She’d cocked one eyebrow at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“ _Tell him I need the bathroom_ ,” she’d told Tae Jun, refusing to speak a word of Korean to the idiot before them.

The cop had let her go, calling her all sorts of names as she went. Tae Jun hoped a pot would fall on the man’s head. Even hot coffee would do. It took all of his willpower and then some not to upturn the table on the impudent man.

When Eun Mi returned a few minutes later, she crossed her arms over her chest and threw her leg over one knee, looking presumptuous. Tae Jun smirked at the stunned expression on the man’s face before nudging Eun Mi. She raised an eyebrow before placing both feet firmly on the floor.

“Damn foreigners,” the man grumbled. “No manners.”

Eun Mi scoffed ever so slightly. Tae Jun shot her a murderous glare. She replied by closing her eyes, inhaling deeply, and imagining herself as far away from the room as possible. She’d been the one to suggest that Ryouta wait just outside; her intuition had kept him from behind hounded by the obnoxious man before them.

As much as Tae Jun wished to be beside his youngest member, he’d seen the wisdom in Eun Mi’s suggestion to make their statements first. In such a shaken state of mind, Ryouta would have implicated himself with the officer’s roundabout, manipulative way of questioning.

Nothing was getting done. A process that should have taken a couple of hours headed for a long run. Tae Jun did not know how much longer they could last without their managers. But even then, what could a couple of managers do against police officers?

“Ms. Song Eun Mi, really, I would prefer for us to stop meeting like this.”

Eun Mi’s eyes opened slowly. She turned her head to her right, smiling at the man standing beside her. She stood, bowing. “I wish the same thing, Detective Kang.”

Praise the heavens! A sensible man had arrived. Tae Jun followed Eun Mi’s lead, greeting the detective that had been placed in charge of Eun Mi’s anti-fan case.

He was a tall man of broad shoulders and big, heavy hands. Even in his mid-forties, he retained a youthful spring in his step, a playfully wicked intellect in his eyes. He had the habit of stroking his goatee when deep in thought or when amused, which more often than not meant he was seen rubbing his chin all day.

The man was one of the best detectives in the force, unbiased and unprejudiced against any kind of people. Detective Kang had taken up her case even before she’d been targeted in Korea. The force of the incident in Hanoi had sparked his interest well enough to begin a quiet investigation of his own.

Now, Eun Mi trusted no one else. If anyone could help them, it was Detective Kang.

“So,” he said, hands sliding into his pockets, an icy smile aimed at his subordinate. “What’s going on here?”

And just like that the useless cop was dismissed, Ryouta brought in, and their statements recorded. Eun Mi had kept her fingers by her lips, a tattletale sign that she was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Ryouta had reached into his back pocket for a piece of gum. He’d handed it to Eun Mi who had then proceeded to chew on the thing with excessive force.

Manager Jo and Manager Lee had arrived eventually to brief them on the situation outside the station.

“It’s crawling with reporters,” Manager Lee grumbled. “How they got wind of this so quickly, I will never know.”

“SNS,” Ryouta deadpanned. “There where fans outside the building who saw the police cars come in.”

Eun Mi popped her gum. “That could be it. Either way, brace yourselves.”

Tae Jun sighed. “Whatever happened to ‘One does not simply walk into Mordor?’”

“Didn’t you watch the movie? They did, in fact, simply walk into Mordor,” Eun Mi said.

“You didn’t read the book, noona?”

Eun Mi’s gum popped loudly. “No. Too busy training to be a circus monkey.”

Ryouta’s grin was vicious, wild. They took the offered masks from their managers, Eun Mi trading off her black one for Ryouta’s white with an offhanded “You look like an anime character with black masks and that sliver hair.”

Ryouta’s grin had widened so much it made his eyes disappear. He shook his hair out, allowing his slivery bangs to hang over his face. Tae Jun placed the mask just over his upper lip, underneath his nose. Eun Mi threw her gum out as she hooked it around her ears, fluffing her hair out to frame her hidden face.

“You guys look like criminals,” Detective Kang joked. “Managers, let me know if you need backup.”

Manager Lee shot him a desperate look. Manager Jo laughed it off, though in truth, he wouldn’t have minded the help of a battalion…or two.

Outside the station existed utter chaos. A chaos that multiplied tenfold when L6 and CELESTIAL exited the building. A handful of officers attempted to maintain order, but the reporters were persistent, hungry hyenas seeking a tasty morsel. What was more, they seemed to be after Eun Mi the most.

“Ms. Song Eun Mi, do you think this attack was because of you?”

“Is your relationship with members of L6 causing discord with fans?”

“Why do you think fans hate you so much? Ms. Song Eun Mi? Ms. Song Eun Mi!”

“Do these events affect the way you see Korean citizens?”

“Ms. Song Eun Mi, a word or two please!”

Tae Jun did his best to keep his glare in check, squinting instead at the flashing cameras. He helped Manager Jo get Eun Mi into the van, ignoring the questions that probed at the nature of their relationship.

“Are you two leaders finally dating?”

“Is this a cover up for a love affair gone wrong?”

Ryouta, for the most part, was left alone. He watched as the reporters hounded his hyung and noona, wondering why it was that they paid no attention to him at all. He lagged behind, watching the scene unfold. Manager Lee kept prompting him to move to no avail.

He raised his cellphone, snapping an image of the mob.

Ryouta felt dangerous. Felt as if the entire world was his enemy, as if he had not a single friend to rely on.

Finally, when Eun Mi and Tae Jun where safe inside the vehicle, the reporters turned to Ryouta.

“Ryouta! Did you instigate this event?”

“Are you in a personal relationship with the culprit?”

“How do you feel about Tae Jun’s injury? Do you think it was your fault?”

“Ryouta! A word! A word!”

But Ryouta didn’t say a word. He said nothing, placing his jacket’s hood over his head. Someone else might have hunched his shoulders, someone else might have kept his eyes on the ground. Not Ryouta, no.

He faced the crowd, the microphones, the cameras dead on with eyes of steel. His steps were steady and sure, a bolt of fire striking a path before him. His exit from the station would soon go viral; the silver haired boy facing a throng of reporters with marble dignity. In silence.

* * *

_⸢Hello, this is B.Star Entertainment._

_First, we would like to update you on the condition of our artists. Earlier this afternoon an incident involving l6’s leader Choi Tae Jun and maknake Aoi Ryouta, as well as Celestial’s leader Song Eun Mi and Main Dancer DAEE occurred in the basement parking lot of the company’s building._

_While Song Eun Mi and Aoi Ryouta were unharmed, Choi Tae Jun and DAEE required medical attention for a minor laceration and shock, respectively. DAEE was taken to the hospital and has since been released. She is now resting at Celestial’s dorm. Choi Tae Jun’s injury was treated on the scene._

_As a company, we apologize for the lack of security that failed to prevent this from happening. From now on we will take greater security measures to assure the safety and well-being of our artists and employees._

_That being said, we would like to inform you that from this point on, B.Star Entertainment will be taking legal action against all of those that attempt to harm or approach our artist in a nonconventional way._

_AMORES and A.Borealis are treasured by L6 and CELESTIAL. L6 and CELESTIAL are treasured by B.Star Entertainment. Thus, we are a company that promotes healthy relationships between artists and fans._

_We will be reviewing safety rules and regulations and updating every fan café as well as the company’s homepage. We ask that you please follow these new regulations for your own safety as well as for that of our artists._

_Lastly, in regards to CELESTIAL’s comeback, we will meet with the members at a later time to decide how to proceed. A.Borealis, we apologize for continuously making you wait._

_As for L6, there are no changes to their immediate schedules. They will continue to rest or participate in their individual activities without disruption._

_Again, we apologize for the lack of safety and for making many of you worry. We thank you in advance for your future cooperation._

_Be safe and make healthy Decisions._

_B.Star Entertainment⸥_

* * *

The company was in utter chaos the following morning. DAEE moved out of the way of a thousand and one employees and PR staff members as they hurried about shouting something about damage control and someone’s SNS accounts.

She dodged a rushing staff, gluing herself to the wall, watching her nearly fly by her. She spotted Chae minutes later, catching up with her in the locker room.

“What’s going on?”

“DAEE,” she placed a soft hand on her arm. “How are you feeling? Did you rest well?”

“Mm. It was just a slight shock, that’s all. Unnie, what’s going on? Why is everyone running around like we’re under attack?”

Chae bit her lip. She pulled her practice hoodie over her head, carefully hanging up her favorite cardigan. DAEE waited as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. She closed the locker door ever so gently.

“Have you been on Twitter at all today?”

DAEE shook her head. “I came straight here. I don’t even want to know what kind of—”

The expression on Chae’s face worsened. Fearing the worst, DAEE dove into the world of social networking, scrolling through her feed for whatever horror had transpired. She feared the worst for Eun Mi. Had something happened again?

But Eun Mi wasn’t the center of the chaos this time.

DAEE’s blood ran cold as a single Tweet glared up at her, nasty and bitterly cold.

 

 

“DAEE! Where are you going?”

“I-I’ll see you in the practice room! I have to—there’s something—oh! I’ll be back later!”

DAEE bolted out of the locker room, rushing up to the elevator. She waited impatiently then pounded on the rooftop’s button. She felt jittery, nervous. The wind blew her bangs out of her forehead, the door slammed heavily behind her.

“Ryouta! Ryouta, are you here?”

She wondered around the area, head turning wildly in every direction. She spotted him standing on the ledge, hands in pockets. Fear choked her, chilly and brutal.

“R-Ryouta?”

He looked at her over his shoulder, a happy smile appearing at the sight of her. He jumped down to safety. DAEE’s knees instantly gave out. He rushed to her, eyes wide with concern.

“Noona!”

DAEE took him by the arms, gazing up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Don’t do that! Don’t stand on the ledge like that!”

“I’m sorry, noona.”

She hit his chest with a weak fist, tears spilling. Ryouta drew her into his embrace, stroking her hair with long fingers. DAEE sobbed into his chest in a way she only ever allowed herself to sob before him.

“Why did you do it? Why are you—?”

“I am not going to stand by idly while they act this way. It’s poison, noona, the way they treat us. We’re public figures, yes, but we’re humans, too. What would you have done if that fan had organized herself better and she’d actually managed to kidnap me?”

“Ryou!”

Ryouta squeezed her harder. “We’re not toys. We’re not objects. If I have to call out the fans I love so much into respecting me then they only have themselves to blame! I will not apologize. I will not delete the Tweet. Let it say there.”

“It could—”

“I know. I _know_.”

He pursed his lips. He knew very well what repercussions would come along with that post. Endless hate comments, death threats, unpopularity. Ryouta should have cared. His younger self would have cared. This self? This “new” Ryouta cared not at all.

“Noona, just stand beside me. Stand beside me and support me. That’s all I need. I only need you, noona.”

DAEE swallowed, shaking her head.

How could she deny him anything? How could she pull herself away from his embrace and reveal anything?

Her silence swallowed her. The worst part was…DAEE didn’t even know why she had insisted in keeping their relationship a secret anymore.

She had not noticed this before, but they’d had a very small window of opportunity open to them. They had had the opportunity to speak up without creating much of a ruckus. That opportunity was long gone now.

* * *

DAEE headed to practice, washing her face in the lady’s washroom before joining her members after Ryouta had been called into the CEO’s office. DAEE turned her cellphone off, suffocating the temptation to go online and search Ryouta’s name.

“Stay away from the internet,” was the first thing Eun Mi said when she arrived. She threw her practice bag on the ground, tossing her snapback on top of it. She scooped her hair up with one swift motion, a deep frown setting her mouth in a fierce scowl, her eyebrows strained with temper.

“What are you waiting for?” she very nearly growled at them. “Practice starts now.”

“U-unnie…”

“Now, Chae Young. We have a comeback to prepare for.”

They exchanged nervous looks. Eun Mi’s foul moods, rare and vicious, always frightened them. Their dance teacher entered the room behind her, his mood just as foul.

“You have the most work to do, Song Eun Mi. Taking a break at a crucial time like this. When will you learn what is a responsibility and what is a capricious errand?”

Eun Mi hung her head, apologizing.

“If you’re really sorry, master the choreography today. This comeback will happen, girls. No more excuses. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

He worked them so hard that by the end of the day, they could hardly hold a single thought for more than a few seconds. Except for Eun Mi, the rest were dismissed.

DAEE watched her continue her practice for a few moments before Chae pulled her away.

“Let’s leave her alone. She’s in a rage.”

Eun Mi was in a rage. In a rage against stalkers, against the media, against everything and everyone. She hated everything so much; the girls could see the hatred in her eyes. DAEE lingered for a couple of seconds more before allowing Chae to drag her away.

Inexplicably, it all felt as if it were her fault. All of it. What all of it was, DAEE couldn’t even explain.

A dark gloom swallowed her from the inside out. She didn’t turn her cellphone back on, missing Ryouta’s calls that night and the following morning.


	35. Heart Training

Taewoon laughed at the sight of Eun Mi on his tablet screen. Her image remained somewhat pixeled as the video call connected, but he could still see how she’d drawn the strings of her hoodie tight around her face.

“What are you doing?”

“I did something crazy.”

Taewoon smiled, his eyes shifting upward to his desktop monitor. He closed and opened files, heavy headphones around his neck. “Like what? Cut your hair?”

“Yup.”

Taewoon screeched to a halt. Eun Mi’s image had cleared up as the connection settled. He could identify her expression as expectant, eyes gleaming with that characteristic mischievousness of hers. His nose twitched, the scent of bleach and hair dye heavy in the room. Taewoon leaned in closer to the screen.

“Show me.”

Eun Mi grinned, her tongue between her teeth. “No.”

“Hey!”

“A.Borealis should be the first to see!”

Taewoon frowned. “Don’t I get boyfriend perks?”

Eun Mi squinted, giving him a sidelong glance. “Don’t push it, mister.”

They laughed. Taewoon really wanted to know what she’d done to her beautiful hair, but he would get nothing out of her now that she’d declared she wanted A.Borealis to experience the change first.

“What are you working on?” she inquired, propping herself up on a pile of pillows. “Is it a song for another girl group?”

“No,” he grinned. “Just cleaning some files up.”

Eun Mi’s sigh came through as a rush of static through the video. “I can’t believe you’ve given three different songs to three different groups but you’ve given CELESTIAL _nothing_.”

Taewoon mimicked the look she’d given him earlier.  “Don’t push it, sister.”

She pouted, sticking her tongue out at him. He smiled, turning back to the monitor. Eun Mi watched him, smiling warmly at the way in which his eyes glazed over, his left hand over his lips and chin.

Eun Mi loved watching him work; it was one of her favorite things. She would not tell him, not yet at least, but that’s when she found him the most handsome. He poured so much into his work, created song out of nothing and everything. Taewoon had been so careful up until now, if he allowed himself a risk or two, his talent would definitely shine through.

Taewoon’s talent was unique. It suited indie groups best. There was meaning to his songs, a deeper understanding of the world and the human soul. His best songs had Eun Mi’s chest feeling as if he’d reached within her and squeezed her heart. Unfortunately, his personal style did not qualify as the mainstream material the public demanded or enjoyed.

Eun Mi had not really understood the phrase “diamond in the rough” until she had met Taewoon. One day not too far from now, Taewoon’s real talent would be discovered. Eun Mi wanted to witness that day, and, a little selfishly, wanted to be a part of it somehow.

“Woon-ah,” she said, “write a ballad for me.”

Taewoon nearly fell out of his chair. “W-what? You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. Write a song for me.”

He gawked. He took several second to compose himself, finally folding his hands over his stomach as he leaned back on his chair, the leather and plastic squeaking as he shifted his weight.

“Ballads are not my style.”

“Liar. I’ve heard them before. You’re really good at them.”

“I knew you’d come up with a way of torturing me.”

Eun Mi sat up, raising a hand to her chest as if offended. “Torture you? I would never!”

“You would never pass up on the chance to do so.”

They stared at each other, Taewoon with a small smile on his face, Eun Mi with a tiny frown on hers.

“What do you want a ballad for?” he asked eventually.

“For my album.”

This really got his attention. He sat up straight again, his face close to the tablet’s screen. “You’re getting a solo? So soon?”

Eun Mi grinned. “Of course not, silly. As if the company would just let me have a solo debut.” She shook her head. “It might be a private project. There’s a style of music I want to sing… I can’t fully convey what I want to say with the songs we have to release.”

Her fingers closed over the fabric of her hoodie, rubbing the area above her heart. Taewoon understood; he wished he were beside her, he wanted to hold her hand. Still, he could not promise her anything. He could, however, keep it in mind.

“How are things with Ryouta? Are you alright?”

Eun Mi exhaled, rearranging herself on her pillows, coming too close to the camera, her face huge on the screen. Taewoon screenshotted the image.

“Mm. I’m alright. Ryouta refuses to delete his Tweet though, and it looks like AMORES are reflecting.”

“Reflecting?”

“Aside from the negative comments of the usual anti-fans, most fans are apologizing to Ryouta even though they didn’t do anything wrong. They’re following the new rules the company imposed and everything.”

“Hmm,” Taewoon paused. “Do you think this is good?”

Eun Mi shrugged, sending the crunching sound of static through the speakers. “I honestly can’t tell. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“What’s going to happen to the stalker?”

“Detective Kang said it’s turning out more complicated than he expected. Her lawyer is claiming insanity or some sort of mental illness.”

A silence settled between them. Taewoon brushed his hair back out of his eyes. Eun Mi was staring at him, eyes deep even on a screen.

“Any attacks?”

“None.”

“Sleep?”

“As much as I can get while practicing and preparing. We had our jacket shooting today then we went to practice.”

“Nightmares?”

She shook her head. “None. I fall right asleep. I’ve been so tired, I don’t even dream.”

Taewoon nodded, relieved. “I met with Million Market not too long ago.”

“A new company? Did you sign with them?”

“I signed my soul over to the devils.”

Eun Mi would have thrown a pillow at him for the bad joke if he’d been with her. Instead, she settled with frowning. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

Taewoon grinned a toothy, lopsided grin. “Well, at least now I’m not unemployed.”

“You never were unemployed. You get money from royalties.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so snarky today.”

Eun Mi’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired. I’ve been working a lot.”

Taewoon laughed it off. “I don’t mind. I know what it’s like. You start shooting the MV tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“When is the release?”

“Next week.”

“Rushed, isn’t it?”

Eun Mi threw herself into her pillows face down, her voice muffled.

“What?”

She raised her head only enough for him to hear her clearly. “I said that everything’s been so crazy this year I’m surprised we’re even going to have this release. It’s impossible to do it as we planned because Red Velvet is having a comeback in September and they’re so scary popular.”

Taewoon couldn’t deny that. They came from a big company with a great music team behind every release. _Ice Cream Cake_ had been stuck in his head for weeks.

“Are you humming _Ice Cream Cake_?” Eun Mi squeaked, indignant. “Where’s your loyalty?!”

Taewoon reigned in a guilty laugh. “Says the girl that will be promoting alongside her idols.”

“Oh. My. _Gosh_. Shut. _Up_.”

“Nervous?”

Eun Mi dived into her pillows again. Yup, she was a nervous wreck just thinking of crossing paths with SHINee in music shows. Taewoon stole a glance at the clock.

“Eun Mi-ah, you should go to bed.”

“I don’t want to.”

Taewoon smiled. “You can call me later. You need to rest up.”

Eun Mi peeked at him, the pout evident in her eyes even when the pillows still hid half her face. She placed her chin on her arm, speaking through half-gritted teeth. “I won’t be able to call you for a while. We’re scheduled for a two day shoot and I have to go film _Follow the Leader_ right after.”

Taewoon had heard something about an MT from Zico a few days ago. He’d figured that would be the first encounter Eun Mi and Zico would have after their explosive farewell. As busy as Eun Mi was and as quietly apologetic as Zico had been recently, Taewoon doubted anything nuclear would happen.

“Mm, that’s fine. You’re out there earning money to buy me a new pair of Jordans.”

“Stop mooching off me!”

Taewoon laughed, taking another screenshot of her outrageous expression. “Good night, Eun Mi-ah.”

Eun Mi pouted, opened her mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. “I’ll call or text when I can.”

“Work hard, sweetheart.”

Her cheeks flared up. She fiddled with her fingers before saying, “Good night, oppa,” and ending the call faster than Taewoon could breathe.

He felt the smile spread across his face, warmth overtaking his cheeks. It took him a while to compose himself. After finding out CELESTIAL’s schedule online, he saved it on his phone’s schedule. There was no way he’d miss the release of Eun Mi’s teaser.

Exhaling, he secured his headphones on his ears, hesitating before deleting a certain file. He double clicked, opening it with a cringe. Soft piano-like ripples, mournful cellos, and crawling violins.

“A ballad, huh?”

* * *

Eun Mi slept the entire ride to the MT filming site. CELESTIAL had finished filming for their music video just a few hours before. She’d stopped by the dorm to shower and pack a few things (mainly her medication and sleeping pills just in case) before heading out with a small production team for Follow the Leader.

They had been greatly shocked at her new appearance. She would have teased them for not having kept up with CELESTIAL’s rushed teaser releases if she hadn’t been so tired. Eun Mi chatted for the first ten minutes before she pulled her hoodie over her eyes. The car ride was a quiet one.

CELESTIAL’s teaser pictures dropped on the way to Jecheon with only Eun Mi’s left to reveal by the time they arrived to the camping site. Eun Mi’s VJ shook her awake as they approached. She hid her face behind her hands, feeling the slight swelling that had started to take place.

“I’m going to be looking like a blowfish,” she muttered, her throat closed from her nap. She cleared it, tapping on her face in mindless, half-asleep motions. “What time is it now?”

“Quarter past eleven.”

“They must be getting ready for lunch.”

“They’re waiting on you to start.”

Eun Mi groaned, hiding in her hoodie. “You’re making us play for our lunch, aren’t you?”

Her VJ said nothing. She muttered a very indignant “Savages” under her breath before squinting at the sunlight that poured in through the open doors. The van had parked outside a magnificent house. She could hear the sounds of the production crew and fellow idols. A cool breeze touched her cheeks, waking her up.

Making her way to the back of the house with her hands in her hoodie’s pockets, she stifled more than three yawns. The hood still pulled low over her eyes, Eun Mi found the other leaders loitering about, talking, on their phones, or napping. Filming had started the moment they’d informed Heo PD that Eun Mi had arrived. She could feel the cameras on her as they filmed her entrance.

“Much ado about nothing,” she whispered, allowing herself a rather unsightly yawn.

* * *

Eun Mi’s hair was pink. No, not _pink_ , but a pastel shade of pink, like cherry blossoms. Her roots were darker than the rest of her locks, a lighter shade of brown tinged with pink. She had also chopped off nearly twelve inches. Her once waist long hair now hung just above her mid-back; she’d straightened it before joining them, a thick braid traveling from left to right, secured with a white hairpin.

The contrast of her hair against CELESTIAL’s Capri blue of her sweatshirt and sweatpants made her look like a walking splash of spring. Despite looking tired, her face glowed; the pink gave healthier shine to her milky mocha skin.

The shock of it had not yet worn off. Chorong continued to gaze, touch, and compliment her new style. Gyuri and Hyolyn had given her compliments as well, though they left the gushing to Chorong and Jonghoon.

“It’s like cotton candy.” Jonghoon ruffled the back of her hair, careful not to ruin her braid.

“I really, really like it.” Chorong stroked the layered strands. “Is it the first time you dye your hair?”

Eun Mi nodded. “I wanted to donate my hair for a long time. I took as much care of it as I could before doing so.”

“Just how long did you keep it for you to still have so much after cutting off ten inches?”

“Very long,” Jonghoon concluded, nodding his head as if solving a great mystery.

Zico listened to their conversation, an unpleasant knot in his stomach. A bitter taste in his mouth made it difficult to speak, placing a frightening scowl on his lips and eyes. Eun Mi caught him glaring and, while in some other occasion her insides would have clenched in fear, she smiled as she waved.

Startled, Zico looked away with haste. He fished his phone out of his pocket, messaging Taewoon:  _Have you seen Eun Mi’s hair?_

It took a couple of minutes before Taewoon’s answer came through: _Yes. She looks heavenly_.

He’d been expecting Taewoon to be upset over the change. Expected to hear how disappointed he was to see her beautiful natural look disappear. Hearing that he actually liked it made Zico feel conflicted.

The week and a half that Eun Mi had been gone had given him time to think. Zico had thought himself into circles, creating a maze out of his emotions and reactions and deductions. The only clear conclusion to anything revolving Eun Mi was to apologize. He’d been the one at fault after all.

Heo PD called them into attention. The leaders lined up before the cameras, Zico and Eun Mi at opposite ends. He held a large bucket in one hand with different colored papers folded neatly, tightly into themselves.

“For this mission, we’ll be dividing you into teams of five.”

“Sub-units,” N joked with a grin.

“It does feel like that!” Chorong agreed.

Heo PD smiled tightly, sending Zico a loaded glance. So far, they’d avoided placing Eun Mi and Zico together by telling him which colored sheets to avoid. This time, they’d folded the sheet he should choose down the middle and straightened it out again. They’d done the same with Eun Mi’s.

Without fussing, Eun Mi and Zico were the first to choose; a silent agreement amongst all of them disguised as consideration for the youngest members. Eun Mi took her designated sheet first, going about it in a very dramatic way.

“Stop fishing for screen time!” Jonghoon shouted.

“Hey!” she protested, engaging him in an argument.

Zico walked up to Heo PD, eyes scanning the bucket. Their eyes met, locked. Heo PD’s warned him not to do anything reckless, to follow the rules and keep his distance like they’d agreed. Zico’s flared with defiance, the very same defiance that always got him in trouble.

Without thinking twice, he selected at random, ignoring the crews’ shocked expressions. Heo PD would have stopped filming if it had not been for how the rest of the leaders quickly made their own selections. They were so happy, feeling refreshed by the mountain air and the casual, lax filming schedule that he did not have the heart to trouble them. Besides, what were the chances that Zico would end up in Eun Mi’s group? Surely the heavens weren’t that cruel.

* * *

Eun Mi sat between Jonghoon and Zico, squeezed by their massive shoulders. She wiggled, elbowing Zico.

“Zico, I can’t breathe. Moooove.”

In response, Zico leaned against her all the harder. She grunted as she collided with Jonghoon. Chorong turned around, looking at them from the passenger seat. N looked at them through the rearview mirror.

“You two are getting along very well today,” he teased. “What happened to Tom and Jerry?”

“Who is Tom? Who is Jerry?” Eun Mi demanded to know.

Chorong pointed a manicured nail at her. “Jerry!” She moved it to Zico, “Tom.”

“Why am I the cat?!”

“Because Eun Mi is more cunning.”

“Ha!”

Despite Heo PD’s worst fear that Zico would cause trouble, he’d been relatively calm. Eun Mi, Zico had discovered, did not attempt to avoid him. No longer blinded to her professionalism, her dedication astounded him. If he allowed her to, she joked with him without reserve. They ended up being a powerful combination during their missions.

A change had occurred in Eun Mi since that night at the apartment. It was as if all the fear she’d had of Zico had vanished, communicated entirely through that punch she’d delivered. She felt at ease around him, very nearly indifferent to his existence.

She pushed him off her just as the car hit a bump. Jonghoon and Zico ended up smacking their heads on the roof. They complained loudly as Eun Mi laughed her head off at their misery.

The MT had turned out to be more fun than she had expected. Chorong had told her that they would have a bonfire later that would only be filmed for an hour or so. Afterwards, they’d be given free time to either sleep or continue talking. Eun Mi had never participated in a bonfire before. She was looking forward to it.

Jonghoon rubbed his head, complaining at N’s driving. Zico looked out the window, the scenery outside looked strangely familiar.

“Hyung,” he said, “isn’t this the way to the lake?”

“Mm. We’re going to the lake.”

“Ah!” Zico clapped once. “We’re going bungee jumping!”

N nearly drove off the road.

* * *

The bonfire burned bright and tall, flames crackling as they consumed the wood hungrily. The last of the filming had been finished an hour before; the crew proceeded to have their own celebratory BBQ while the leaders talked, played, slept, or otherwise occupied themselves.

Despite their astounding teamwork, Zico and Eun Mi’s team had lost during the bungee jump. While Jonghoon and Zico had jumped right away, N had taken a really long time to do so and Eun Mi and Chorong had flat out failed. Both girls had opted not to jump, earning their team a penalty of plus ten minutes each, leaving them without much chance of beating the other team.

Jonghoon sat with his guitar on his lap, strumming a new tune with a beer at his feet. Tae Jun listened carefully, giving him feedback whenever Jonghoon asked. Sunggyu had turned in for the night, along with Gyuri and Hyolyn. Eun Mi, Jimin, and Chorong huddled together, listening to Jonghoon’s guitar.

“It’s like he cast a spell over them,” Tae Jun complained.

N grinned, drinking his beer. “If I got up and danced, they’d be shocked. If I’m this sexy while simply hanging out, imagine how sexy I am when I dance.”

Tae Jun rolled his eyes so hard they almost rattled inside his sockets as they moved. Eun Mi laughed so hard her sides hurt.

Zico watched it all with a bottle of water in hand. He’d reverted back into that unusual pensive-self that had appeared since the night at the apartment. Tae Jun tried his best to disguise Zico’s behavior as exhaustion, attempting to spare Eun Mi any discomfort.

But the bad blood between them had been spilt, hot and wild and savage. Neither could ignore the mess that lay at their feet, beckoning them. They both knew they either had to clean it up or leave the battlefield. However, neither of them could leave seeing as their one casualty was someone they both treasured very much.

“Are you going to be a producer in the upcoming season of _Unpretty Rapstar_ again?” Jimin asked, shooting the question over the fire at Zico.

He looked up, eyes shadowed by the flames. “No. Too much work.”

“And evil editing,” Jimin said.

“And fake drama,” Chorong sighed.

“And bullshit,” Tae Jun concluded.

Jimin nodded her agreement. “And bullshit. Still, it gives us rappers and opportunity. Is DAEE interested in auditioning?”

Eun Mi shook her head, tossing Jonghoon a bag of dried squid. “She hates it for all the reasons you just said. She says she wants to do it as CELESTIAL’s DAEE, not as rapper D-Aie.”

Zico raised an eyebrow. “D-Aie? I haven’t heard that name in a long time.”

Eun Mi shrugged. “It’s been a while since Su Jong fished her out of underground. I think he did it because he had a crush on her.”

Tae Jun shot her a sharp look. “Don’t even joke like that, Song Ma Ri.”

An icy tension settled in the camp. Everyone shifted uncomfortably, everyone, that is, except Eun Mi. She was used to Tae Jun’s uptight personality and his militaristic way of running things. While he intimidated others, he simply annoyed Eun Mi the way any older cousin would. Often and with the tiniest of things.

“Why? What’s so bad about Su Jongie liking DAEE?”

Tae Jun pursed his lips. Jonghoon pressed his guitar against his stomach as he leaned forward to ask, “Does your label allow dating between their artists?”

“There’s no rule against it that I know of. I think some of the acting seniors dated before so maybe there’s no dating ban on us either.”

“Stop gossiping,” Tae Jun hissed.

This annoyed her very much. “Choi Tae Jun, if you’re worried about your boys liking my girls, tell me straight out who you think would cause trouble and why. Don’t go beating around the bush, you know I hate that.”

Tae Jun stood, eyes ablaze. “Come with me.”

Eun Mi rolled her eyes, following him.

Everyone watched them go, shocked.

“I’ve never seen them argue like that,” Jimin murmured.

“I have,” Zico said then paused as he realized that he had been present more than once for one of their heated arguments.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” she declared.

They looked at her questioningly. Jimin kept her eyes on the fire before looking straight up at Zico. “You’re the closest to them out of all of us.”

“Huh? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Jimin exchanged her beer for a water. “You always hang out around Eun Mi, and since Tae Jun is always with her, it’s no surprise you’ve seen them argue. They’re both very friendly, despite being so secretive.”

“I’m not—”

“Now that you mention it, Zico does follow Eun Mi around,” Jonghoon interjected, his voice huskier under the influence. “Like a puppy. A very rowdy, ill-mannered puppy.”

“That’s a little rude,” Chorong chastised.

Their argument faded into the background, white noise that filled Zico’s mind with static. He swam around his memory, finding evidence that supported their outlandish claims.

Afternoons in the backyard by the pool watching them read or waking up to their bickering. Cooking dinner, both Eun Mi and Zico learning from Tae Jun. And those nights in which Eun Mi would return late to Tae Jun’s heavy warnings and long lectures.

Though Eun Mi spent a lot of time with everyone at HQ, especially Chorong and Jonghoon, Zico found a thousand and one intimate little details of L6 and CELESTIAL’s leaders. He’d somehow made his way into a part of their lives he wasn’t sure he should be present in.

Zico stood abruptly, ignoring his friends’ questions and protests as he took a six-pack and headed to the lake. His mind felt heavy with thoughts and words and memories. His heart felt exposed, poked, and probed.

He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to be around anyone and pretend he was okay. Because he wasn’t. Zico had not been okay in a very long time. It had taken him nearly as long to realize it.

He leaned against one of the vans that had been parked on the pebbled earth. The large vehicle between him and the others provided a layer of shielding that he appreciated. The lake was still a ways off, dark and vast and dark and vast. It mocked Zico—a physical representation of his abysmal subconscious.

Time continued to move, taking no pity on Zico’s pitiful being drinking in solitude. He willed himself to silence his thoughts. Beer after bitter beer, Zico longed to forget. He did not notice Eun Mi until she was beside him.

She leaned against the side of the car, her feet digging into the damp, pebbled soil. In between her hands, she held a sweaty can of beer. The cardigan she wore swallowed her, falling down below her knees, shrinking her already small size even more.

She didn’t say anything. She stood beside him, drinking her beer. The lake stretched out before them, the night wind rippling its dark surface. The leaders’ chatter traveled down to them, a constant happy, playful sound.

Zico took a swing of his own beer, the six-pack at his feet down to four. “Who taught you to drink?” he asked, breaking the silence with a whisper.

“Tae Jun oppa. He taught Kain, Jongie, and me the year we turned nineteen.”

“Do you like to drink?”

Eun Mi held up her beer. “Yes. Though I never do it to get drunk.”

“Are you good at drinking?”

“Yup. I can hold my liquor pretty well. You?”

Zico chuckled. He took a drink. “I’m pretty lousy at it. Get drunk too quickly.”

“You lightweight.” Eun Mi smiled as if she had already known.

They drank together in silence for several minutes. Zico’s mind lightened as his eyelids became heavy. Eun Mi sensed the shift in his demeanor the moment it happened, when he went from sober to buzzed to slightly drunk. She said nothing, drinking quietly.

“We lived in the same building,” Zico said, his voice a little too happy, a slight bit too loud. “You lived in the same building as Block B.”

Eun Mi paused, thinking back on the training years she lived with her aunt instead of her fellow trainees. “Mm. We lived there for a while, but our apartment was nowhere near yours. I found out when an unnie I know asked me to keep an eye on her cat while she was away.”

“Did you know?” he inquired.

“Know what?”

But Zico didn’t specify, didn’t explain himself. He dropped his empty beer can (his fourth already) on the ground after crushing it. He swayed as he pulled his shoes off, pulling the legs of his pants up below his knees. Eun Mi placed her drink down, following a staggering Zico to the lake’s edge.

He sat with his toes in the water, arms propped up on his knees, hands clasped. She sat beside him, fighting her hair out of her face when the wind attacked. Zico reached over, his sudden movement making her flinch.

He hesitated only for a moment before combing his fingers through her hair. Eun Mi’s brow creased, her eyes confused. Zico’s long fingers tucked her hair behind her ear, his thumb caressed her cheek.

They looked into each other’s eyes, both searching for very different things within their gaze.

The ghost of something powerfully sad existed in Zico’s sharp eyes. It glowed like the moonlight brushing the surface of the lake’s minute waves, the image of sad little birds fluttering against the current. It struggled to stay alive though it had clearly already died. Suffocated, perished under the weight of his heart.

He swallowed, tongue heavy with words he longed to utter but would never be able to—because he had messed up. Because he had done as he pleased instead of as he should. Fame had seemed so sweet, love so empty, work so promising.

I hate you. I love you. Leave. Stay. Why him? Why us? Why now?

Eun Mi’s expression grew troubled the longer he stared, the longer he continued to gently caress her cheek. Zico’s eyes suddenly cleared, focused.

Eun Mi had drawn her cardigan around her tightly, a shield against the cool breeze of the lake. It wasn’t only big, it was _too_ big. It was a man’s cardigan. It was Taewoon’s.

Zico’s face twitched painfully, his lips curling into a grimace. He pressed his palm against Eun Mi’s cheek, locked her into his gaze. He willed her to understand, to decipher the storm that raged within him. He wanted her to hear Jiho’s words, to comprehend and accept Jiho’s truth.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of the water lapping against the shore, the distant laughter of the campsite behind them, the whispering of the wind was drowned under the presence ofh is apology.

Eun Mi’s lips turned up in a tender smile. She nodded once. Zico lowered his hand, turning away as he resumed his position facing the lake; eyes unfocused, glazed over by tears.

The apology, long overdue, swirled around them, tying them together with an experience neither of them would soon forget.

Zico wondered why life couldn’t have those drama-like moments in which the main leads fast-forwarded through the painful experiences. Or why he could not access his memories in flashbacks where he could see the point of view of everyone present. Where he could hear their thoughts and be an almighty presence that knew everything. Zico wished he could read his life as a book written in third person omniscient. Maybe then he could make sense of everything that surrounded him.

A sneeze from beside him made him jump. Eun Mi sneezed again, continuously for a few seconds before looking up. She sniffled, rubbing her nose. “Excuse me.”

Zico blinked a few times before bursting into joyful laughter. Heat rushed to Eun Mi’s cheeks. She pressed her fingers, hidden underneath the sleeves of her sweater, to her face. Zico ruffled her hair, smiling. “Cute.”

Eun Mi swatted his hands away in the same manner that she would Tae Jun or Jonghoon’s. She punched his shoulder lightly, a slight bit carefully. Zico replied with another laugh. She smiled, relieved.

“You should go sit by the fire,” he said, patting her head.

The affection transmitted through his fingertips onto her scalp filled her with sorrow. She made sense of him then, in that moment with his eyes glazed over with drunkenness and sadness, she understood the dark depths of the ocean within him.

Eun Mi understood and turned away.

“I should. It’s too cold out here. Are you heading back?”

“I’ll stay out here a little longer.”

She sniffled, rubbing her hands on her face. “You’re kind of drunk. I’ll send one of the guys over to walk you back.”

Zico nodded. Eun Mi stood.

“Don’t jump into the lake. Woon-ah would kill me if you died on my watch.”

The smile on Zico’s face wavered. _Woon-ah_.

“I won’t.”

Eun Mi nodded then paused. She bit her lip, her thumbnail halfway up. She brought her hand down, clasping and wringing it with the other. Zico looked up at her, aware only of the most obvious expressions on her face against the dim moonlight.

Finally, with a shaking voice, Eun Mi asked, “Friends?”

Something inside Zico’s chest exploded, hot and cold and dark and sad. He inhaled, averting his eyes for a single moment before giving her his best grin. “Friends.”

Eun Mi gave him her signature smile, nodding once more as she headed back to the others. She wrapped her arms around herself, Taewoon’s cardigan enveloping her.

Zico watched her go. What he felt...it was pride. It was prejudice. It was love.


	36. Falling Off the Tight Rope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!! MENTAL ILLNESS AWARENESS/DISCUSSION AHEAD!!

In the rush of promotions, fan-signs, TV appearances, and fan meetings, life actually took a slow turn for Eun Mi and the members of CELESTIAL. They managed to secure a win in every major music show before Red Velvet’s comeback and after SHINee’s mind blowing repackage comeback.

As always, Eun Mi kept her distance, except for the time in which she and Chae participated as special MCs. Eun Mi thought she would die standing so close to Jonghyun. Backstage, she couldn’t suppress a surprised yelp when Key complimented her new hairstyle. She felt guilty for not returning the compliment, wishing him good luck with _Married to the Music_ instead. Truth be told, Eun Mi hated his broccoli hair, and as a fan, she felt horrible about hating it—but not really.

“I feel so bad,” she confessed to Taewoon. “He’s always so stylish, and he’s practically in charge of SHINee’s styling now… But I just couldn’t compliment his hair.”

Taewoon looked up a photo of the idol in question. “Oh. Damn.”

“Woon-ah!”

“Don’t feel bad. I don’t think you’re the only one that dislikes it. He might even hate it himself.”

The argument on Eun Mi’s lips had died only because CELESTIAL had been called onstage. She vowed to avenge Key, only to forget about it during the performance and following events.

For CELESTIAL’s anniversary fan meeting, the girls went through with DAEE’s idea of sharing Mexican candy. Due to the lack of time and sudden decision, a couple of goodie bags were raffled out; presented to the lucky A.Borealis by the girls themselves.

CELESTIAL was busy, but they were not unhappy. Promotion period was the only time they did not get days off, but they didn’t mind. They enjoyed every single moment of it; from practicing, to performing, to spontaneously meeting A.Borealis before music shows, to the official fan-signs, the girls loved every moment.

In the midst of this, Eun Mi and Tae Jun’s birthday came and went like a hurricane. The company reserved _Café Mid-Moon_ for a private party with thirty fans and a handful of fansite masters. Eun Mi made them all coffee and read a handwritten letter thanking them for their support and love. When she later posted a scan of it on CELESTIAL’s fan café, many A.Borealis left encouraging comments. Tae Jun, on the other hand, serenated AMORES and uploaded the live performance video onto L6’s fan café and official YouTube channel.

The cast and production crew of _Follow the Leader_ also celebrated Tae Jun and Eun Mi’s shared birthday as well as Zico’s all in one go. They attempted several hidden cameras, but none of them succeeded. They were a fierce trio that no one seemed to know how to lie to very well.

That day, they also informed them that their time in the program was drawing to a close. The show had received more love and higher ratings than expected, especially for a program focused on idols. The network’s approach to the leaders’ lives in a documentary manner fused with variety and reality, had given way to many discussions, most positive, but with its fair share of negative reviews. Viewers worried for the mental health of the leaders, argued that the pressure and responsibility placed on them to be the bridge between the company and the group, as well as the one that had to lead them in public presentation and etiquette, harmed the young idols.

In a very long, drawn out meeting, the leaders and their companies, along with the network, decided that the program had run its course, at least for its first season. A special segment to the music festival in October was added in which the leaders would showcase collaboration stages, a product of their time spent together in productive musicality.

It was a great way to tackle the debate on how idols lacked musical talent without the support of their labels. Whether they had choreographed an entire routine, composed, or produced a song, the music festival would be the place where they would reveal these hidden collaborations.

Jonghoon threw his arm around Eun Mi’s shoulder, tucking her in against his side. “We’ve got this in the bag!”

Eun Mi hesitated, looking up from the notebook in her hands, her brow creased. “I don’t think the lyrics are quite ready yet.”

“Of course they’re not. Are you still promoting? Do you have time to stop by FNC and work on them?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

And that was how Eun Mi ended up spending more time at FNC than anywhere else, including Taewoon’s apartment. The time spent with Taewoon—or the lack of—did not matter to her as much as the evenings missed in the company of her girls.

Here recently, DAEE had been distancing herself from everyone. It troubled Eun Mi so much that she often wished _Follow the Leader_ had ended quietly instead of forcing her away from her members.

A bad feeling gnawed at the pit of her stomach; a feeling that continued to grow as the days passed by. She could only think of it for a few moments at a time before she was required to refocus on her work with Jonghoon. They had a hit song to create, after all.

* * *

 

DAEE zipped her jacket up, cramming her hands into the pockets as she pushed the door of the roof open. The wind whiplashed her hair, making it stand on end. Ryouta stood by the ledge, but not on in. DAEE sighed her relief.

“Ryou!”

He turned, smiling at the sight of her. He opened up his arms for her; she rushed into them. DAEE tucked herself against his chest. There had been a time when she had been taller than him. Taller and smarter and stronger. She wondered when the roles had reversed.

He kissed her forehead, stroked her cheeks, before crushing his lips to hers. DAEE allowed herself to drown in his passion for a few seconds before she heeded the alarms going off in her head. She drew away with a blush when he attempted to nibble her lip.

“Noona?”

Ryouta’s eyes lacked their usual sparkle, lacked the vivacious gleam that had drawn her to him in the first place. His hair hung limply, his dark roots creating a gloomy, dreary contrast against the silver. DAEE caressed his cheeks with the back of her fingers. He caught his hand in his, kissing it, biting.

“Ryou, stop.”

He looked at her with those dead eyes that made her soul cry. He dropped her hand, blinking slowly.

“Ryou,” she choked out. “Please, let’s get help. Let’s go talk to someone.”

“No.”

“Ryouta, _please_.”

“ _No!_ Do you think it will get better just by talking to someone? Do you think anything will change just by having someone tell you that you are officially crazy? How naïve can you possibly be, Park Dae?”

Her real name felt like a slap, a cold, wet slap, merciless and evil. She took a step back, swallowing hard. “You need help.”

“You need to mind your own business, noona. Don’t bring it up again.”

“Or what? You’ll break up with me?”

“Yes.”

DAEE threw her shoulders back, standing straighter. She could feel her eyes sting with tears, her chin trembling with the threat of sobs. She extracted herself from Ryouta’s arms, hoping that her voice did not betray how badly his words hurt.

“Then break up with me. I was your friend before I became your girlfriend. I have cared for you from the moment we met. I don’t need your permission to worry about you, just as I don’t need your permission to love you.”

DAEE had hoped that her declaration would light a spark in his eyes, return some of his old self into this stone cold new being that stood before her. She hoped in vain. Ryouta’s eyes remained as dead as the day he’d returned from the police station.

“Then we’re done,” he deadpanned.

She was losing him, slowly, quickly, all at once and in tiny pieces. His mind was consuming him from the inside out. How did no one else notice? How could no one else worry about him?

She coughed into the crook of her arm as she rushed back into the building. She had to find Eun Mi. If anyone knew what to do, it would be Eun Mi.

So consumed by her worry, DAEE did not notice how Su Jong lingered just beside the rooftop’s door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a tight, knowing expression on his face.

* * *

Eun Mi accepted the V Live app phone with a gentle smile. CELESTIAL, in their final weeks of promotion, had been granted the opportunity to do a live broadcast through the new app. Though the project was still in its beta stages, many idol groups had successfully interacted with fans via V Live. The novelty of having an app that focused on connecting K-Pop idols to the rest of the world, to their international fans, made it all the more exciting. CELESTIAL hadn’t been able to attend K-CON as of yet, so they did not know just how many international fans they had. Eun Mi, especially, wanted to know how they were received overseas.

“Is that the V app phone?” ReNA inquired, bouncing from foot to foot. “When do we go live?”

“Twenty minutes. Stop jumping around. You’ll make our stylists work twice as much if you mess up your hair.”

ReNA frowned but listened. “I thought this broadcast was supposed to be real, candid.”

Eun Mi would have replied with thrice the sass if she had not spotted DAEE rushing into the room. The fear in her splotchy face unnerved her.

“Chae Young.”

Chae materialized beside her, attentive, ready. She had grown stronger, more responsible during these past promotions. Eun Mi had gradually allowed her to take a few leadership roles here and there; CELESTIAL would follow Chae in Eun Mi’s absence, but Chae had to believe that she could lead for it to work.

Handing her the V Live phone, instructing her to connect it to the selfie-stick, Eun Mi made her way to DAEE. Already, one of the stylists was fussing over her windblown hair; DAEE’s eyes pleaded, cried out desperately in a way Eun Mi had never seen before. They made her hesitate, stumble in her approach.

“U-unnie,” she cleared her throat, tried again. “Unnie, can I talk to DAEE, please?”

The stylist grumbled under her breath, rattling off a string of accusations at DAEE over how easily she destroyed her image. Eun Mi bowed a slight apology, taking DAEE by the crook of her elbow and leading her out of the room.

“DAEE, what’s the matter?”

Shivers coursed through her body, perspiration sliding down her neck, accumulating over her lips. DAEE’s breaths came in short, shallow gasps. Eun Mi dug around her sweater’s pockets; she’d placed a couple of tissues in there earlier, or so she thought. She patted DAEE’s face dry with her sleeves when she didn’t find them.

“Unnie,” her voice cracked, a sob wrecking her body. “R-Ryouta…he—”

“Oh my goodness, DAEE, you’re burning up!”

DAEE pushed her hands away from her face, trying to speak over her fussing. A sob paired painfully with a cough. She hunched over, pressing a fist to her chest as she nearly hacked a lung out. Eun Mi rubbed her back comfortingly. DAEE had a vague notion that she’d called for help.

“U-un-unnie, R-Ryouta—”

“I know, I know. I’ll call someone to go get him. He’s on the roof, right?”

DAEE glanced at her, almost managing to feel surprised before she started coughing again. Eun Mi continued to rub her back until Na Na unnie arrived.

“Have you been walking out in the cold wind?” she scolded. “You know how sick you get when you’re out and about during the change of seasons. And with your goodbye stages just around the corner. What am I going to do with you?”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry take better care of yourself!”

Eun Mi watched them go, a foot inside the door as the staff continued to call her back into the room. She rushed to send a message to Tae Jun; he should be somewhere in the company, he could go get Ryouta. It made her nervous.

“Ms. Song Eun Mi!”

“Yes, coming!”

* * *

Su Jong sat on the bench behind Ryouta, watching the kid step on and off the ledge. He stuffed his hands in his jacket’s pockets, hunching his back against the wind. He tilted his head up to better see his member; funny how a cap could limit someone’s sight so much. Ryouta’s hair whipped about. Su Jong thought it looked freaking cool.

“If you’re going to jump,” he finally said, making Ryouta nearly lose his footing, “you should pick another building. Unless you want to come back as a ghost and secure the success of our next album, please don’t haunt this place.”

“Are you freaking insane? I could’ve fallen!”

Su Jong grinned, the kind of grin that said he was crazy, the kind he only ever showed Eun Mi. It stopped Ryouta’s blood, froze it over in terror. “You aren’t the only one with a few loose screws, Ry-ou-ta-chan.”

Ryouta hesitated briefly before stepping down from the ledge. He watched Su Jong watch him as he made his way to take a seat beside him. Su Jong offered him a piece of gum, then reached into Ryouta’s pocket, pulling out the pack of cigarettes and tossing them over the ledge.

“Hey!”

“You’re a fucking singer. You make a living out of using your lungs and you’re going to fuck them up with cigarettes?” Su Jong smacked him upside the head. “Where the fuck is your brain?”

Ryouta glowered, rubbing the fierce ache away. “I haven’t—”

“Become an addict? That’s what all addicts say. Denial. Straight up deny they have a problem. You know who else denies they have issues?” Su Jong leaned in close, the bill of his cap brushing Ryouta’s forehead. He grinned again, tapping his temple. “People with fucked up brains.”

“W-what?”

Su Jong grinned then proceeded to laugh manically. He tossed something at him, a small container that rattled. Ryouta’s reflexes weren’t fast enough, he had to pick the little bottle off the floor. He read the label, but didn’t understand. He counted six pills inside; the label said it was due for a refill in three days.

“Hyung?”

“Do you have a dad, Ryouta?”

Su Jong knew that he didn’t. Everyone knew that if someone did not talk about one parent or the other, or both, they weren’t in good terms with them, or dead, or both. That’s just the way it was. It’d started with Eun Mi and carried on. No one liked to talk about what skeletons were hidden in their closets. Su Jong didn’t like to talk about how he was partially hidden inside one, too.

“You know I don’t.”

“Me either. The bastard left my mother for another woman’s fortune. He tried to become a politician, ended up on someone’s bad side and, _kqwiiiik_ ,” Su Jong ran his thumb over his neck.

Ryouta flinched.

“Messed up my mom some. Messed me up a lot.”

“Hyung, why are you telling me this?” Ryouta wanted to run away, to stop listening. He didn’t recognize the man sitting next to him. The mischievous gleam in his eyes, the troublemaker tilt to his smile, was gone.

“Why? Are you scared?” Su Jong threw his arm around him, pulling him in against his side. “You should be. You see that little bottle you’re holding? That’s my stabilizer.”

“H-huh?”

Su Jong laughed, a foreign sound that Ryouta had never hear before, one he hoped he’d never hear again.

“My shrink says I suffer from cluster B personality disorder. It sounds lame, I know, nothing fancy. In fact, it just means I can’t control my emotions very well.”

The annoyance and anger Ryouta had continued to feel disappeared as a wave of uncensored fear took over. A thousand tiny instances in which Su Jong had seemed at the verge of hitting them, the slumps he seemed to fall into while they were in hiatus, the nights he’d stay up obsessing over his most recently developed hobby flooded into his mind.

“Why are you like this?” Ryouta heard himself ask the question aloud, felt himself gulp.

Su Jong sighed, sounding more like himself than he had throughout the entire exchange. “Now that’s a good question. A bit of it is genetics, another bit is life experiences, traumas, and the other bit…maybe bad luck? Eun Mi says that first world citizens develop and illness of the soul and mind because we don’t suffer physical maladies. That’s the word she used, _maladies_. I swear she pulls that vocabulary out of thin air. Who uses the word maladies?”

“Eun Mi noona.”

They shared a laugh.

Su Jong took his medication back, putting it away. “Some people say that having a mental illness is like missing a puzzle piece. I say it’s more like walking a tight rope. You need to keep your balance, otherwise you’ll end up dead.”

They sat in silence, staring up at the electricity cables that ran from one pole to the next, envisioning themselves on their thin lengths.

Ryouta wondered if he would end up dead. He felt so close to the ground, tipping over, falling. He thought of DAEE and of AMORES, of his members and his aunt waiting for him at home. He thought of his puppy, Lemon-Honey, and of the little kitty he’d seen at the vet’s. He thought of the plans for next year’s concert and the rush of being onstage. He thought of never being able to sing or dance or perform again.

He whispered his choked cry so softly, it would have disappeared with the wind of Su Jong had not been expecting it: “Help me.”

Su Jong pulled him closer, planting a big, loud, wet kiss on his cheek. “Our little maknae is growing up! I’m so proud!”

Ryouta reeled, pushing him away, feeling more like himself than he had in days. “Hyung! Ew! Stop!”

“Let yourself be loved, kid! Lemme give you another one!”

They goofed around until their hair and clothes smelled like metropolitan wind, until they laughed so hard their sides hurt. Ryouta felt closer to himself and his friends than he had in a long time. He took the hand Su Jong offered him and held on tight.

“I need to apologize to DAEE,” he whispered.

“You do,” Su Jong agreed, nodding his head. “Better make it soon unless you want her to take the breakup seriously.”

Ryouta nearly stumbled down the stairs. “H-hyung! You knew?”

Su Jong flicked his forehead. “Duh. Everyone knows. We’ve known for a long time. Eun Mi said we had to give you two time to figure it out and tell us yourselves.” He rolled his eyes. “DAEE really, truly cares for you. People like us need someone like them to make it. Don’t mess it up.”

“I-I won’t.” Ryouta paused. “But did everyone really know about it?”

“Yes. Everyone. You can’t hide it from us, and even if you could, you’d never be able to hide it from the leaders.”

Ryouta sighed. “I guess it was stupid to even try.”

“Just a bit.”

_Everyone knows_.

It felt like a sick joke, a creepy premonition, a way of saying they’d all been aware of his struggles and done nothing and everything to help. Ryouta didn’t want to think about it; he just wanted to find DAEE and apologize. He also wanted to tell her that he would get treatment, like he promised her, like he’d been promising her for months.

Ryouta couldn’t believe he had waited this long, let it get this bad. He had to apologize and get better.

Apologize and get better.


	37. DISPATCH-ed

Who was it that said the world would end in a whisper? Who was it that dared lie so blatantly, so carelessly?  Worlds didn’t fade, they didn’t cease to exist with the exhale of a final breath. Worlds crashed down, burned, turned, fought, and struggled. Forget the destruction of planets, those happened millions of light years away, in sci-fi books and _Star Wars_ movies. The destruction and death of worlds happened weekly, daily, hourly, _by the minute_.

Individual worlds died all the time.

All it took was a single photograph, a thoughtlessly, thoroughly written article for an idol’s world to be in danger. Some scandals were like meteorites, crashing harshly into the surface of the idol’s life, leaving crater-like scars. Others were like natural disasters; temporary and with different degrees of damage. And the worst kind of scandal is the one that starts and begins a war; it is bloody and horrid.

That was the kind of scandal that DAEE and Ryouta faced when _Dispatch_ released an article claiming they were dating.

And the worst part was that it wasn’t a lie.

* * *

CEO Choi Min Soo threw the tablet on the table. It clattered loudly before sliding off. Tae Jun and Eun Mi stood at the other side of his desk, hands clasped before them, heads bowed.

“What is this shit? Huh?!”

The leader of PR stood off to the side. She cringed at the sound of his voice, her posture a mirror image of the leaders’.

“We’re sorry.” They both bowed.

“Sorry? Why are you apologizing? Do you think this will be solved with an apology? Just how have you been monitoring the members?”

Eun Mi gripped her hands, knuckles turning white. Tae Jun kept his head down. A knock on the door indicated the arrival of the managers and the members in question.

DAEE, having been discharged from the hospital only an hour earlier, still looked pale and ill. Ryouta supported most of her weight, concern and guilt plastered all over his face.

CEO Choi went off on them. He was so angry, he ended up stumbling over his words. He called them irresponsible, idiotic, fools for believing that they would wander around the city without any sort of disguise and think that no news outlet would be onto them. More than anything, he resented them for trying to hide it for so long when the company could have been better prepared to protect both their images.

“Call _Dispatch_ ,” Mr. Choi shouted. “We need to release a statement. I want this controlled.”

He whirled around; he stuck a finger near Eun Mi’s face. “Finish these promotions as quietly as you can. No more scandals, Song Eun Mi. Don’t make me regret taking you in.”

Eun Mi resisted the urge to bite his finger off.

“Yes. Sir.”

* * *

“Are you okay?”

Taewoon listened to Eun Mi’s frustrated sigh.

“I think so. Stressed, maybe?”

“Anxious?”

“No more than normal.”

Taewoon wished he could tell her not to worry about it too much, but seeing as it had been _Dispatch_ that released the news, it would be hard to contradict them. He cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear, pulling up the real time web search rankings. The results made him frown.

“Did they ever get around to telling the CEO?”

“No. They kept it a secret until the end. And that’s what makes this much more difficult.”

“Tell me they didn’t send each other secret messages through social media.”

Eun Mi sighed again. “They say they never did, but I’m sure fans or anti-fans will ‘find’ something.”

Taewoon navigated the search engines, worried at how much attention the kids were getting. Fans were certainly not happy. He got the feeling the sense of betrayal ran high and wild, especially since more than a handful of them had quoted Su Jong and Ienna saying L6 and CELESTIAL were nothing more than friends, siblings even.

“Where are you now?”

“At CJ E&M Center. We’re waiting for rehearsal.”

“Ah, _M!Countdown_? This is your first goodbye stage, right?”

“Mm. Our last will be next Wednesday on _Show Champion_.”

He smiled slightly so that she may hear it in his voice. “Don’t worry too much about this. You guys have been nothing but honest and kind to each other’s fans. I’m sure it will blow over soon. Besides, if you think about it too much…”

Eun Mi didn’t have to guess what he meant. She exhaled, feeling worn and exhausted. “Yes. I know. I’ll take care of myself.”

“Things will be alright. You’ll see.”

“I have to go. They’re calling us to rehearsal.”

“Head up. Shoulders back. Make me proud.”

Eun Mi gave a tiny, breathy laugh. “I will. Talk to you later, Woon-ah.”

Taewoon set the phone down, returning to his work. Every ten minutes, he’d check the online rankings, keeping an eye on the situation.

There wasn’t much he could do, just as there was not much anyone could do. Once the fans became angry, they would not be easily soothed.

He sat back, exhaling as he ran his hands through is face and hair. He thought of all the crazy things Eun Mi had gone through this year: the whispers surrounding her and Zico, the attack at the airport in Hanoi, the attack at CELESTIAL’s dorm, Ryouta’s near kidnapping, and now this.

The girl was like a magnet for trouble. With CELESTIAL in their second year since debut, just now starting their third, he did not know how they would be able to continue under the pressure of so many scandals.

It had taken one shot to bring Co-Ed School down. How many more could CELESTIAL withstand? How many more until Eun Mi had enough?

“What are you doing not working?”

Taewoon’s new manager kicked his chair playfully as he walked by. He glanced at the screen on the computer, reading up on the news. He whistled.

“Fans are not going to be happy.”

Taewoon groaned, dropping his head on the desk. Would anyone ever tell him something he _didn’t_ know?

* * *

Zico scrolled through the search results, reading article after article. His mouth hung open from the shock for so long that Kyung reached over and gave his chin a slap.

“You’re starting to drool.”

Zico hurriedly wiped at his mouth and chin, not even registering that Kyung had been lying. Pictures of DAEE following Ryouta and Ryouta following DAEE had him in shock. The comments had him reeling.

_[+2010, -100]  Whoa…I always thought there might be a couple, but his is still a shock._

_[+2223, -20] Let’s be real, the question we all want the answer to is…who seduced who?_

_[+4090, -178] After Aoi Ryouta acted all high and mighty on Twitter…heol… he should apologize to fans._

_[+4050, -128] Liars…traitors…freaking idols…._

“What are you so hooked on?” Kyung leaned over, peaking at the screen. “Whoa!”

He snatched it from Zico’s hands, rereading all the articles he’d just gone through. “Is this for real? Who released it?”

“ _Dispatch_.”

“They’re fucked.”

There really was no way around _Dispatch_. Once they released something, the public took it as the truth, mainly because it was.

The news gave anti-fans the fuel they needed to validate their dislike for the group or the members, while it harmed the bonds built between the idols and their fans. What was worse, L6 and CELESTIAL had built such a close bond with each other and their fandoms that it was impossible for them to escape this without repercussion.

The question here was: would the fans attack the group as a whole or just the individuals involved?

“Have you checked on Eun Mi yet?”

“What? Why would I do that?”

Kyung smiled. Zico shifted uncomfortably. He hated how smart the bastard could be.

“Stop that. There’s nothing between us. We’re just friends.”

“Since when are you friends? Last time I checked you two were mortal enemies.”

“Hey, we’ve never been mortal enemies.” Zico snatched his tablet back. He wiped the fingerprints from the screen, avoiding Kyung’s gaze. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“You mean it was _your_ misunderstanding, right?”

“Shut up.”

Kyung laughed. “So, did you check on her?”

“That’s not my job.”

“Don’t you want to rack up some I’m-not-really-an-asshole points?”

Zico elbowed him, hard. Kyung doubled over, a painful grin on his face.

“She has a boyfriend.”

Kyung straightened up instantly, his eyes wide. “What? Who?”

“Hyung.”

Kyung’s eyebrows drew together. “Which one?”

“Mine.”

Seconds ticked by in silence as Kyung took longer than expected to process the information. When it finally clicked, he gasped loudly. “What?! Taewoon hyung?!”

Zico gave a curt nod. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

“It doesn’t really concern you, though.”

“What?”

Kyung leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “It is bad. It’s awful for them, especially since they’re under the same label. But this doesn’t affect anyone else.”

“That’s a really insensitive thing to say,” Zico frowned. “Have you forgotten what we went through?”

“I haven’t. Which is why I am telling you that this in no matter affects us. Our mistake affected no one but ourselves. We were lucky. We didn’t offend our fans as much as the general public that doesn’t give two shits about idols. Our fans were there for us when we returned. These two,” he pointed at a picture of Ryouta smiling at DAEE, “they lied to their fans. They pretty much dug their own graves.”

Zico gawked at Kyung. “Who pissed in your drink today?”

He walked away from Kyung. Kyung watched him go, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Hey! Don’t go getting into a scandal just to draw attention away from CELESTIAL! Mind your own business, Zico!”

“Buzz off.”

“I’m serious! Ma Ri is a great person, but she can handle her own battles! We’ve fought our own already!”

Zico stopped. He looked over his shoulder. “Ma Ri? Since when do you call her Ma Ri?”

Kyung shrugged. He stood, giving his shoulders a wiggle. “You jealous? You jealous?”

If he had been paying more attention, he would’ve seen the cushion Zico threw at his face. He took several steps back and had to rub his nose afterwards.

Zico was gone by the time his eyes refocused.

“Shit,” Kyung sighed. “That’s rotten luck.”

* * *

The struggles faced by boy groups differed from those faced by girl groups.

Boy groups had the ever present conscription hanging over their heads. It was the inevitable; a forced hiatus from their music activities in order to serve their country. Every able bodied man in the Republic of Korea had to serve, whether they were a celebrity or not.

Along with that, they had to face the disinterest by the male population. They depended, almost solely, with the few exceptions, on the female population to grant them their success. They had to be sexy, edgy, bad boys more often than not. Sweet, boyfriend-type groups disappeared if they did not have a solid grasp on their concept with perfect execution.

Girl groups, on the other hand, faced harsher situations.

Slut shaming. Body shaming. Constant incessant abuse and bullying targeting their appearance, talent, and personality. While they could appeal to a wide range of audiences, they were more susceptible to hatred.

Fans were quick to forgive the mistakes of their male favorites. They were understanding, sympathetic, even downright foolish sometimes. But when it came to girl groups, the members were at fault.

Because they were ugly. Because they were fakes. Because they wanted attention. Because they were sluts. Because others were jealous of their success, talent, and beauty.

Girl groups had to find a balance between being sexy and cute. Too much sexiness and they were sluts. Too much cuteness and they were fake or bland. There was no happy in between, no way for them to appease the public.

L6 had experienced difficulties, most certainly. They’d debuted with a modest budget, an okay music video. They’d gotten lucky, though. Girls liked them, liked their voices and their charms. They quickly climbed the ladder of the over-saturated industry.

Their success allowed them to have better dorms, better music videos, better sponsors. L6 paved the way for CELESTIAL. But that did not mean that CELESTIAL didn’t have their own struggles.

As their sister group, they had to build a relationship with AMORES as well as their own fans. They had to establish trust amongst their fandoms, amongst each member, as a whole group. They’d tried their absolute best to make it clear that L6 were label mates, friends, brothers, seniors.

And they had been, before all of this started.

A.Borealis were especially quiet as CELESTIAL took the stage. With the stage lights dimmed for rehearsal, the girls could see the cautious, almost pinched, expressions on their fans’ faces. There was an unusual hush in the room.

“Chae unnie, did you eat?” a fan suddenly called out.

“A-ah. Yes!” Chae fiddled with her mic, nervously pretending it needed adjustment. “Did you all eat?”

Scattered yeses and noes were heard through the auditorium, building the buzz that was common to the environment.

“ReNA! You’re beautiful!”

“Ienna! You’re sexy!”

The girls breathed a shaky sigh of relief. They exchanged nervous glances, hasty smiles. Eun Mi, who had been busy getting her mic and in-ear in place, hadn’t been on stage for the initial activity.

She hesitated for a moment, hiding in the shadows. Her heart hammered in her chest, her palms were sticky with sweat. She could feel her makeup coming undone, smearing from her perspiration. She took a big gulp of air before bouncing onto the stage.

A.Borealis cheered when she appeared.

Something felt strange, eerie and uncanny.

Eun Mi smiled, waving. She glanced around, checking on the girls without drawing much attention to herself. DAEE hovered close to her, attempting to hide her 5’8’’ frame behind Eun Mi’s 5’0’’.

“Unnie,” she whispered.

Eun Mi gave her a tiny smile, feeling the bile in her stomach attempt to push its way up her throat. She swallowed hard, pushing it down to the soles of her feet, willing the anxiety to seep out of her and into the floor.

“Head up.”

Something was coming. Eun Mi could feel it as the PD asked them to get into position.

The music blasted all around them, hypnotic in its call. Eun Mi could hear her voice in her ears, could hear her members and see them as they moved across the stage. She could see A.Borealis with their light sticks, creating a Capri blue ocean.

And then she could not see them, couldn’t even hear them. Eun Mi wanted to believe that she had imagined it, that the MR had drowned out A.Borealis’ voices and that the choreography kept her eyes from it.

But it continued to happen. A.Borealis’ existence continued to flicker in and out of life.

Very much like Shawols, A.Borealis were recognized for the precision in their fan chants, thus it could not be denied: A.Borealis were boycotting DAEE.

The Capri lights would disappear, their voices would fade, and all only when DAEE took to the stage. They were isolating her, denying her the forgiveness and understanding that she sought and hoped for.

A.Borealis cheered.

_Song Eun Mi! Lee Chae Young! Lee Re Na!_ _No Han Eul! CE-LE-EST-I-AL!_

They cut DAEE off. The precision in which they did it left the girls chilled. Even in the recordings for them to monitor, the silence was so absolute that they could hear the tremor in DAEE’s voice as she rapped.


	38. Creeping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: STALKING

Zico arrived at his apartment complex by 5:07 am. He stayed inside his car until 5:15, making it to his room by 5:25. He yawned widely as he input his passkey. Six chimes—maybe seven. He closed his door carefully behind him, a consideration to his neighbors, disappearing inside the would-be sanctuary of his home.

Sighing wistfully, she walked over, placing her hand on the smoothness of the door, the barrier that kept them apart almost each night. She leaned her back against it, sliding down to the ground as she imagined herself inside with him.

If she tried to unlock the door, she would surely fail. Her Zico had become so careful since the last time she’d tried to enter his home. His passkey became longer and longer, leaving her to wonder just how many tries it would take for her to finally get inside.

She thought back on the days that they would exchange smiles, the memories that made her warm and fuzzy inside. The time when Zico would smile for her camera was long gone, but his smile had been especially bright when she’d aimed her camera lens at him. He could tell her apart from the rest, his favorite fansite master.

He had smiled so brightly and it had been just for her.

Blood Rose still wasn’t sure why Zico had started to hate her. She wasn’t sure what was so wrong about her love for him. There really wasn’t anything wrong with it at all. Wasn’t it normal to want to be beside the person you loved?

She worshiped the ground he walked on, reveled in his breath and his every triumph. No other BBC had given herself as completely to Zico as Blood Rose had. Their betrayal had hurt her deeply until she’d realized that she could have Zico all to herself.

She had loved that idea so much she’d become the phantom of his life, watching him from the shadows, always nearby but far enough that he would not notice—most of the time anyway. Her life was his and his life was hers. Completely, entirely.

She heard Zico’s raspy bass seep through. Smiling, she pressed her ear to the door, ignoring the cold hard tiles underneath her as she shifted her weight. She pressed herself closer, soaking up his voice.

“….no…tries… talked to…”

Blood Rose pressed her ear so hard against the door that it hurt.

“…Song Eun Mi….take care…important…hyung…”

She jumped away from the door as if she’d been electrocuted. Her blood boiled with rage, her fist clenching and unclenching as her nostrils flared with angry breaths.

Again. There she was again!

“That damned bitch,” she hissed. “I’ll kill her. I swear I will!”

Blood Rose kicked Zico’s door hard, feeling the pain on her toes as she ran away. She heard Zico opening the door, saw him looking around before he spotted her slipping out of the emergency exit.

“Hey!”

Running as fast as she could, Blood Rose escaped. Her mind churned, conjuring up methods that would guarantee getting rid of Song Eun Mi. Scaring her away from Zico hadn’t worked. That was child’s play.

Blood Rose had to step up her game. She had to eradicate Song Eun Mi before Zico cared for her any more than he already did. She was a threat to their relationship that had to disappear.

* * *

Taewoon cursed as his phone blasted into life, startling him awake. He reached over, shielding his eyes from the bright glare.

“I thought you weren’t going to answer,” Zico’s voice came through as a hushed whisper.

“I almost didn’t,” Taewoon pulled the phone away from his ear, squinting to make sure it really was Jiho on the other end.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Mm. What’s going on?”

There was a pause. Taewoon rubbed his eyes, propping himself up. He could tell something was going on. His brother became unusually quiet whenever he had really important things to say or when really unpleasant things happened.

It was one of Jiho’s greatest contradictions. On a stage, in front of thousands of people, he could deliver his feelings in swift, near perfect raps. Before his family members and closest friends, he had a harder time saying what was on his mind.

Taewoon sat up, placing his feet firmly on the ground. “Jiho, what’s wrong?”

“Hyung.”

The slight, almost undetectable tremor in Jiho’s voice had Taewoon bursting into action. “Where are you? What happened?”

Taewoon threw on a pair of sweats and a wrinkled shirt. He dug around for his car keys as Jiho told him that the stalker had found him. Again.

“Hyung, I don’t want to stay here.”

“I know. I’m coming to get you.”

Jiho gave a shaky breath. “I can’t go home, hyung. What if they follow me there?”

“Did you tell security? We won’t come home. We can use the apartment.”

“No!”

Taewoon nearly lost his balance as he struggled to get into his shoes. “No?”

“I won’t go there.”

“Jiho.”

“No. Not the apartment. They can’t know about the apartment. I’ll go…I’ll go to Leader HQ.”

Taewoon cursed as the cool, early morning breeze chilled him. He jogged to the car, arguing with Jiho all the while.

“There’s no privacy in that place.”

“That’s exactly why it’s a good place to hide.”

“Dammit, Jiho, cameras will be on you. I know your work ethic is ironclad, but even you need to be human every once in a while.”

It was a thirty minute drive from their family home to Jiho’s place. They argued the entire time. When Jiho jumped into Taewoon’s car, their argument picked up right where it had left off. By this point, Taewoon had given into Jiho’s demands, though he knew that arguing with him would keep him from a breakdown.

“How’s mom?” Jiho changed gears. “You’re making sure she’s okay, right?”

“Of course I am.”

“It would have been nice if we’d had a sister. She could have kept her company.”

Taewoon sighed. “We would’ve driven the poor girl crazy.”

“She would have hated to have us as brothers.”

Taewoon turned into the alley that would lead them straight to HQ. Jiho had fallen silent beside him, his head hanging. He wondered when his brother had last slept. Neither of them were the best at keeping a clean health record, but at least Taewoon tried to sleep.

Ahead, a sleek black van stopped. Taewoon sighed, wondering who would be arriving at HQ as early as his crazy brother. The lack of movement roused Jiho.

“Oh. We’re here. Thanks, hyung.”

“Jiho, are you sure you don’t want to go to the apartment?”

Jiho gave him a weak, tired smile. “I’m sure. I’ll see you later, hyung.”

Taewoon watched as Jiho shuffled up to the front door. The van had gone on its way. Eun Mi stood on the side of the road, watching Jiho make his way up to her.

Her eyes traveled from Jiho to Taewoon, holding his gaze. Jiho stopped, looking from Eun Mi to his brother. Eun Mi took a step towards him. Taewoon nearly jumped out of the car. He longed to go to her, comfort her. He wanted to hide her away from the world.

In fact, Taewoon wanted to take both Jiho and Eun Mi and hide them in a place where no one would ever find them. Their faces were a reflection of one another’s, exhausted and sleep deprived. Their shoulders hung, the near unbearable weight of their circumstances pushing down on them.

Eun Mi made as if to run to him, stopped, glanced at Jiho, and then, with a herculean effort, turned and disappeared inside HQ. Taewoon exhaled, understanding. Jiho looked at Taewoon, his expression pained.

“Go.” Taewoon waved him away. He stuck around until he was sure Jiho had made it inside before driving away.

* * *

Zico’s soul nearly left his body when he found Eun Mi lingering just beside the front gate.

“Holy shit!” Zico pressed a hand to his chest. “Eun Mi, what are you doing here?”

Eun Mi’s lip twitched in an exhausted attempt to smile. Her eyes, plagued by dark circles, latched onto him. All the joy and life seemed to be missing. She played with her fingers, picking at the tiny rhinestones on her nails. Zico watched her, confused.

He waited for her to say what she was struggling to ask. Zico yawned as Eun Mi continued to wring her hands.

Their phones chimed simultaneously, making them jump at their loud chime. Zico, losing his footing, smacked into the front gate. Eun Mi reached out to steady him, pulling him upright.

“Are you alright?”

Zico rubbed his head, cursing under his breath. He grumbled as he checked his phone, his words fading.

“Hey. Check your phone.”

Eun Mi did as he said. “O-oh.”

On their screens, they both had the exact same message from Taewoon: _Get some sleep. Or else_.

Yawning again, too tired to care about the deeper meaning of the chatroom’s existence, Zico threw his arm around Eun Mi’s shoulder. She staggered under his weight, staring up at him.

“Do you want to find out what that ‘Or else’ is?”

“Not really.”

Zico nodded. “Me either. He punches really hard.”

“Does he still hit you?”

“Should that surprise you?”

Eun Mi walked beside him, her arm tentatively around his waist. “You probably deserve it.”

Zico gave her a gentle shake. “I am the best little brother in the world. I don’t deserve anything but love.”

“Good little brothers don’t steal their hyung’s chicken.”

“He told you about that?!”

Eun Mi opened the front door, slipping inside with a tiny laugh. Zico followed her, arguing about his merits as a little brother. Eun Mi listened to him, contradicting every point with one of Taewoon’s.

They settled on the sofa. Eun Mi refused to share her blanket, leaving Zico to wrap his hoodie closer around him.

Sometime during their argument, they fell asleep, the fears and worries of the idol life momentarily forgotten.

* * *

Eun Kyung paced back and forth, biting her nails. She could not believe she was back walking the length of the street on which MBK Entertainment was located. She’d sworn never to do this ever again, especially now that Taewoon no longer spent his days within the company’s walls.

She’d considered this her last resort. Eun Kyung had gone to the police station several times; they hadn’t taken her seriously, in fact, they had straight up told her that unless she could prove that Blood Rose was up to no good, they wouldn’t do anything. More than once, Eun Kyung kicked herself for never asking the girl’s real name. If she had known, maybe they would have taken her seriously.

She thought of taking to the internet, but that could easily be dismissed as a mere rumor unless she executed it just right. She messaged several fansite masters about her encounter with Blood Rose. They’d been more willing to listen than the police. They had promised her that they would do their best to contact the company and warn Zico. Still, Eun Kyung felt it wasn’t enough.

The sun shone brightly overhead, warm but lacking the heat of summer. Passerby gave her odd looks, some elderly even stopped for skipping school. Eun Kyung got away from them by saying that she was out on a research project. By noon, Eun Kyung sat on the curb of the road, defeated.

“What am I doing? Woo Taewoon oppa doesn’t even work her anymore.” She pounded on her head with her fist. “Get yourself together, Nam Eun Kyung.”

A small commotion across the street made her focus. She could see two young men arguing just behind the glass doors of the company building. A handful of fans dashed across the street, whispering amongst themselves.

Eventually, Kim Jungwoo exited the building. He thundered down the stairs, swinging on a jacket as he went. Expecting someone else, the fans dispersed. Jungwoo did not stop as he gave a sharp turn, disappearing from Eun Kyung’s sight as he left MBK behind.

On a whim, Eun Kyung chased after him. Her clumsy footfalls alerted him of her presence. Clearly perturbed and angry, Jungwoo’s handsome face contorted into displeasure at the sight of her reaching for him. He sidestepped her and she very nearly tumbled over.

“Listen, I’m not in the mood for this today.” His voice was tight, not at all like the sweet sound she had gotten used to.

Eun Kyung righted herself, catching her breath. “P-please listen to me. I-I have something important to say.”

Jungwoo rolled his eyes. “I doubt it.”

Worn and exhausted from days of worry, pushed to her limits, Eun Kyung’s eyes swelled with angry tears. She stomped her foot, spreading her arms to keep him from walking away. Jungwoo took a step back, startled.

“Listen to me! If the police won’t, then at least you can!”

This gave Jungwoo pause. Placing his own struggles and anger aside, Jungwoo took a moment to analyze her. Recognition flickered in his eyes.

“Nam Eun Kyung.”

Eun Kyung’s breath caught. The sound of her name validated her efforts. “Jungwoo oppa.”

And just like that, she burst into tears. Her sobs, though quiet, still drew the attention of pedestrians. Jungwoo, the most startled of the lot, attempted to comfort her. Taking her gently by the arm, he led her to a small coffee shop. Once Eun Kyung calmed down, he relaxed.

“What are you doing here, Eun Kyung? Didn’t you say you would be too busy studying to be a fan?” A tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips. His hair had grown long enough to be caught in his lashes between blinks.

Eun Kyung suddenly felt very self-aware. She could smell the sunlight in her hair, the wind on her skin, and car exhaust on her uniform. She half-hid behind her bangs, hoping that Jungwoo didn’t come too close to smell the entire city of Seoul on her.

“Oppa, do you know Zico?”

Jungwoo blinked. “Zico?”

Eun Kyung nodded. “Taewoon oppa’s little brother.”

Jungwoo waved her explanation aside. “Yes, yes, I know who he is. But why do you want to know? What’s going on Eun Kyung?”

Exhaling, relieved that someone finally seemed to be taking her seriously, Eun Kyung sat at the edge of her chair, pouring out the past month’s events, starting with the encounter with Blood Rose and ending with her desperate attempt to reach Zico through Taewoon.

“I know it sounds awful, but I was desperate. Blood Rose is not in her right mind.”

Jungwoo rubbed his jaw, his eyes narrowed. He’s been listening attentively to her tale from the start, his expression growing darker with each word she uttered.

“Oppa,” Eun Kyung panicked at his expression. She reached over to take his hand in hers without thinking, grasping it pleadingly. “Please believe me. Zico’s in trouble.”

Even as she spoke, Eun Kyung heard the ridiculousness of her pleas. Blood Rose was crazy, but she had not said that she would do anything to hurt the object of her obsessive love. The look in her eyes had been what had sent Eun Kyung in a desperate search to find help.

“Calm down, Eun Kyung-ah.” Jungwoo held her hand gently, reaching over to stroke her cheek. “I’ll talk to Jiho and tell him what’s going on, okay?”

“You will?” Eun Kyung’s entire face lit up at his promise.

“Mm. Give me your number, and I’ll stay in touch. Or will it be okay if I gave it to Taewoon or Jiho if they need to ask you some questions?”

“O-of course!”

Eun Kyung couldn’t believe that Kim Jungwoo had just asked her for her number. She also couldn’t believe the circumstances that had led to his asking. She fumbled with his phone for a moment before managing to input in her contact information.

Jungwoo smiled at her, kindly ruffling her hair as he stood up. “Don’t worry, Eun Kyung-ah. Leave this to us, alright?”

The way he said it made her feel as if she had been intruding, forcing her way into a world that she didn’t belong in. She had the sudden thought that idol business was idol business and even though she had been trying to help them, she’d crossed a line that she was not aware existed.

Jungwoo smiled at her again, promising that he’d pass on her message. She watched him walk away then double back and ask for her cellphone.

“You need to have my number, too. In case you see Blood Rose, you need to have a way of contacting me.”

Eun Kyung nodded.

Jungwoo stood beside her, seemingly indecisive about something. He rubbed his finger over his lip, deep in thought.

“Oppa?”

“Eun Kyung-ah. Blood Rose, does she own a Block B hoodie?”

“Yes. She carries it around with her everywhere. She said Zico gave it to her personally during a fanmeet.”

Jungwoo inhaled sharply. Again, he patted her head. “Thank you, Eun Kyung-ah. You’ve worked hard. Now go home, go to school, and live like a normal student.”

Something in his voice made her heart ache. He looked defeated and torn.

“Oppa.” She stood, hugging him before she changed her mind. “Thank you for giving us so much of your youth. Please, be happy now.”

Jungwoo stood very still in her embrace. He could feel the eyes of several other patrons on them. He swallowed hard, returning her hug ever so briefly. In a whisper so soft she almost missed it, he said, “It was all for DEEPS.”

Then he was gone, walking out the door and hailing a taxi.

Eun Kyung sank into her chair. She sat there, watching people come and go just outside the coffee shop, staring at the spot Jungwoo had disappeared from. Eventually, an employee asked her if she needed any help.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m alright.”

But she wasn’t alright. She was tired, worried, and tense. Eun Kyung knew it was too late to go to school and too early to go home, but she needed rest. With a heaving sigh, she took her backpack, thanked the staff in the shop, and headed out in search of the nearest sauna.


	39. Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mild violence

_A desert storm brewed in the horizon. Dark clouds glowed from powerful, purple lightning, growling with the force of thunder. The wind blew cool, tangling her hair. Eun Mi stood still, reveling in the force of Mother Nature, of her homeland so far away._

_The mountains grew smaller as the storm swallowed them. The land was still, silent before such a mighty display of power. It was beautiful, frightening and surreal._

_Eun Mi spread out her arms, closed her eyes, the scent of the storm penetrating her nose, filling her with euphoria. She heard the rain meet the ground, a connection between the heavens and the earth. Eagerly, she awaited the moment the storm would take her, dousing her in its desert-like wonder._

_But the rain never touched her. Instead, the forceful pain of her head snapping back made her open her eyes, inhaling a gasp of air. Another blow from behind made her head jerk back again._

_“Hang on,” a voice said from beside her. “We’ll be okay.”_

_Disoriented, she looked around. She was in a car, cutting through the storm at a frightening speed._

_“Slow down.”_

_“I have to speed up. You have your seatbelt on, right?”_

_“Slow down!”_

_A pair of headlights appeared just ahead, heading straight for them. It was an eighteen-wheeler._

_“Watch out!”_

_The car swerved out of the path of the oncoming truck, but the vehicle behind them slammed into them again, and this time, the force of the impact sent them spinning out of control._

_Eun Mi screamed, her head slammed against the window, the sound of bone and glass cracking making her ears ring._

_A flash of headlights, a bolt of lightning, and suddenly they were rolling. Glass, dirt, and debris flew around. The sound of the crushing vehicle was drowned out by the storm._

_After an impossibly long time, the car came to a stop. Gasping, crying, Eun Mi opened her eyes to find herself hanging upside down. Her heart hammered in her chest; she could smell the fear radiating off her. With great effort, she tried to free herself from the seatbelt’s grip._

_She could feel blood on her forehead. Her hands and arms were cut and scraped; her head ached miserably._

_“H-help!” She cried out. “S-someone! Anyone! Please, help!”_

_“Marisol.”_

_The voice was so softy and weak she almost didn’t hear it. Eun Mi turned and saw her father, bleeding and dying._

_“¡Papá! Don’t worry, s-someone will help us soon.”_

_Her father reached for her hand. Eun Mi took it, kissing his bloody knuckles desperately. They tasted of blood, dirt, and her tears._

_“My beautiful daughter,” he gasped, “I am…so proud of you.”_

_Eun Mi shook her head. “N-no, papa, you don’t get to go like this. You’re going to live and apologize to me properly! And then we’re going to keep arguing and apologizing for a long, long time!”_

_Her father smiled. Eun Mi sobbed, blinked. Her mother took her father’s place._

_“Oh, mi niña,” she smiled tenderly, “still so afraid of the big, old world.”_

_“M-mamá.”_

_“Stop being so afraid. Make the world fear you instead.” She stroked her cheek with a frail hand. “Be a desert storm.”_

_Eun Mi sobbed. “We’re going to be okay, mama. Hold on, okay?”_

_Eun Mi released her mother’s hand to fight against the seatbelt. She pulled and tugged until she finally reached for a long, sharp glass shard that sliced into her palm._

_“Let go of that.”_

_Eun Mi snapped her head around to find a bloody Zico in the spot her mother her just occupied. His nose seemed to be broken, his forehead swollen; blood poured out of his wound and into his hair, caking it together in bright red lumps._

_“Hyung is going to kill me.”_

_“J-Jiho,” Eun Mi struggled to remain sane. “We’re going to be okay.”_

_He gave a gruff laugh, turning to face her. His features shifted, morphing almost effortlessly into Taewoon’s right before her eyes._

_“No. I don’t think we are.”_

_Eun Mi screamed, slashing through the seatbelt at last. She fell painfully, glass digging into her flesh._

_“Woon-ah! Taewoon-ah!”_

_She reached for him, freeing him with a mighty struggle. Taewoon’s body fell, hard, nearly toppling above her._

_“W-wake up.” She gave his cheek a soft pat, pushed his bloody hair away from his forehead. “Please wake up!”_

_“He won’t wake up,” a voice said._

_Eun Mi held Taewoon closer. The owner of the voice stood just outside the broken window. The dark Victorian design on her black skirt made Eun Mi’s heart gallop with fear._

_“Give him to me. “The voice took a on a wispy, feminine intonation. “I’ll take good care of him.”_

_“No!”_

_A gust of wind, a high pitched hysterical laugh, and suddenly, Death was there with her, a white skeleton dressed in a pitch-black Victorian dress. Eun Mi stared into the vacant eye sockets, her heart in her throat._

_“He’s mine!” Death screamed in her face. “And I’ll come for you too, my dear, but today, this one is mine.”_

_Taewoon disappeared, stolen from her. Death had taken him in a whirlwind of high pitched, hysterical laughter._

_Eun Mi screamed._

* * *

Zico woke up to the sound of Eun Mi’s raw screams. He fell off the sofa, landing hard on the ground. Greatly startled and disoriented, he looked around.

Eun Mi lay curled in a tight ball at the other end of the sofa. The stillness of her body contradicted the force of her screams. To his untrained ear, Eun Mi merely shouted in absolute terror; he did not realize that she was desperately begging for someone’s life in Spanish.

“Hey, Song Eun Mi!”

He pushed himself up, darting towards her in alarm. As he reached for her, Eun Mi’s scream intensified, her limbs flailing. Zico fell back, shocked and scared for her. He didn’t notice how Gyuri and Chorong had rushed downstairs, or how Jonghoon had emerged from somewhere within HQ.

“What’s going on?”

Gyuri had to raise her voice to be heard over Eun Mi’s screams.

“Shit. Fuck.” Jonghoon rubbed his face with both hands. “Where’s Tae Jun?!”

“H-he went out for a schedule,” said Chorong.

“Should we wake her?” asked Gyuri.

Jonghoon walked over to where Zico and Eun Mi were. “No, leave her. You’re not supposed to wake them up.”

Zico gawked. “So then what do we do?”

Jonghoon helped Zico stand. “We wait for her to come to her senses.”

“What? Hyung, that makes no sense! Look at how frightened she is!”

Zico tried to get around Jonghoon, calling out Eun Mi’s name. Jonghoon pushed him back, blocking his path.

“If you approach her now, it won’t make any difference! She’s not aware of herself or others! Night terrors aren’t something you can soothe away!”

“Are we supposed to just watch? Hyung!”

Jonghoon fought Zico back. “Give it a rest, Jiho!”

“Both of you give it a rest!” Gyuri roared as she pushed them both apart. “Neither of you is helping!”

Jonghoon and Zico glared at each other from over Gyuri’s head, their chests rising and falling with shallow, angry breaths. It took them all a moment to realize that Gyuri’s voice had seemed abnormally loud because Eun Mi had stopped screaming. They turned to look at her; she sat upright, eyes wide, hands on her lap.

“Eun Mi?” Chorong whispered. “Honey, are you okay?”

Wordlessly, she stood after a few minutes. Gyuri stepped away, saying something about calling over some of the production crew or medical help.

“Chorong, do you know where she keeps her medicine? She does have some here at HQ, right?”

Chorong nodded rapidly. “Yes! It’s in the room, I’ll go grab it!”

“I’ll go with you.” Jonghoon headed up the stairs with Chorong.

Zico could hear the leaders moving, but he did not register anything they said. Something about Eun Mi’s posture made him nervous. The distant look in her eyes made him wonder if she was really awake. He gulped.

Suddenly, Eun Mi bolted. Zico jumped aside, startled, and then, after a moment of brief hesitation, ran after her.

“Hey! Song Ma Ri!”

Zico caught up to her in time to see her slip through the front door. Cursing, he shoved his feet into his shoes.

“How the hell is she so fast?!”

He ran out after her, cursing yet again as the cold wind slammed into him. Eun Mi raced ahead of him, her hair flying behind her. Zico had the horrifying feeling that if he did not catch up to her soon, something terrible could happen.

He picked up his pace, catching up to her just before she reached the main road. Gripping her by the arm tightly, he spun her around to face him.

“Hey! Are you insane?!”

Eun Mi struggled against him, shouting her protest in what Zico concluded to be Spanish. She pushed against him, struggling to free herself. Zico understood that if she had been in her right mind, Eun Mi would have most definitely beaten and escaped him in a second. With Eun Mi this irrational, Zico ended up taking her by the shoulders, shaking her hard enough to daze her.

“Song Ma Ri! Get a grip!”

Eun Mi stopped moving, her head hanging limply. Suddenly aware of the scene they must be making, Zico glanced around in desperate fear. As if by some miracle, no one had been around to witness their insane misadventure. Nonetheless, Zico guided Eun Mi into an alley, keeping her steady.

It wasn’t until she stumbled that he realized she had been running barefoot.

“Honestly,” he sighed.

With gentle hands, he guided her onto the ground until she sat with her back pressed against the wall. He regarded her for a moment. Her limp head, her hair tangled and messy, inappropriately dressed and with dirty feet made Zico think of a used up ragged doll. He hated the thought so passionately that he nearly punched the wall behind him.

He paced, agitated and downright scared. The memories of Jihoon’s schizophrenia came crashing down on him, turning his mind and stomach.

Zico suddenly, ardently, hated the world around him. Hated the concept of fame, of publicity. He hated his own need to be recognized and his desire to make music that made others admire him. He hated having to see those around him lose, crumble, under the careless, cruel words and actions of people that hid under the cloak of anonymity.

They would not be as brave or as cruel if they were forced to confront them in person. Zico wanted to fight all of them, to scream in their faces. He prayed that they would be punished for their cruelty, their lack of humanity.

_Zico hated them all._

A strangled cry ripped through his throat as he punched the wall. He pounded his fist into the solid brick a couple more times before Eun Mi’s mumbling voice broke through his own insanity.

“Ma Ri.” He went to her, kneeling before her. He brushed her hair back, cupping her face in his hands, tilting it up to look at her. Eun Mi’s eyes had closed, but her lips moved quickly, soft, fervent words slipping through in whispered Spanish.

After taking a deep breath to regain his composure, Zico removed his shoes and socks. With clumsy hands, he slipped his socks on Eun Mi’s feet. He stood barefooted as he removed his hoodie, maneuvering it around Eun Mi with some difficulty. He tucked her hair inside, pulling down on the hood until it covered her troubled, sleeping face.

Slipping into his shoes, Zico forced Eun Mi to stand. He crouched low, threw her arms over his shoulders, and heaved her onto his back. She was lighter than what he’d expected her to be, but heavy enough to assure him that she was safely secured on his back.

Eun Mi rested her head against his shoulder, her whispers chilling him as he started the trek back to HQ.

The world seemed to have turned upside down in the last twelve hours. What unnerved him the most was finding out that Song Eun Mi, the woman he’d considered a hurricane, was nothing more than a small, frail human that could break just as much as he, if not more.  

Up until now, Song Eun Mi had been nothing more than an outstanding artist. Her talents seem to know no limit. In fact, Zico had been thoroughly annoyed by how talented she seemed to be. In his mind—and doubtless in everyone else’s—, Eun Mi was good and perfect at everything. She had no trouble doing anything that she set her mind to it.

He hated himself for being so foolish.

While Song Eun Mi was indeed nearly perfect, the girl behind the glamour, Song Ma Ri, had a lot to shoulder. Zico had never once considered why she tried so hard in everything, nor why she had to make sure that she was good at it. The ocean that was Song Ma Ri continued to deepen. Zico wasn’t sure he could stay afloat for much longer, not when such depth compelled him to drown.

Zico realized that he would never be able to do it. He would never be able to understand Song Ma Ri. Even now, he hardly understood who Song Eun Mi was. It frightened him. She frightened him.

As he climbed the hill with Eun Mi on his back and the mystery of her complex existence in his mind, Zico found himself yearning for his older brother. He willed him, with the force of his desire alone, to materialize before him, to take Eun Mi from him and reassure him that everything would be alright.

Zico found himself needing his brother. He needed Taewoon again.

His eyes stung with the knowledge of his inherent need for him. He felt small and weak, stubborn and lonely at the thought of it. For a brief moment, Zico was ten years old again, cornered by upperclassmen that wanted to beat him up because his eyes looked mean. Only this time, Taewoon was not coming to his rescue.

Eun Mi’s sobbed masked his own. He felt her hot tears seeping through his shirt, her voice whispering the name he wanted to call out.

“Taewoon-ah….Taewoon-ah…”

* * *

Jeon Nari squinted as she stepped out of B.Star Entertainment’s building. She felt as if she hadn’t seen or felt the sunlight in years. Spreading her arms wide, Nari inhaled a deep breath of fresh air.

“Sunlight!”

Her fellow trainees laughed, each taking a moment to bask in the early autumn sun. Nari stretched her numb limbs, groaning loudly, happily. She had spent the better part of the month in a practice room, singing and singing and singing. With the monthly evaluation behind her, she could relax and enjoy a late lunch with her friends.

“Who wants spicy rice cakes?”

A hoot of approval went up in the air, followed by a chorus of booing when someone said they would have to burn off the calories later. They were halfway down the street when Nari realized she had left her purse back in the trainee locker rooms.

“You guys go on ahead,” she shouted over her shoulder, “I’ll be right there!”

Nari did not even make it into the building. She caught sight of a skulking, dark figure attempting to hide behind the light post across the street from the company. In the weeks since B.Star had released the new regulations regarding the loitering of fans outside the company, Nari had not seen a single fan break the rules. In fact, fans had not even gathered outside the company to protest the relationship between Ryouta and DAEE.

As a member of the company, Nari felt compelled to inform this loitering fan of the rules. Without a second thought, she jogged across the street, coming dangerously close to the woman.

“Excuse me?” When the woman showed no signs of having heard her, Nari cleared her throat loudly. “Excuse me, but you can’t be here.”

Blood Rose turned to face her, her eyes much too wide, mouth twitching. “Where is Song Eun Mi?”

She brought her thumbnail to her teeth, biting down on it. Nari watched her in shock as Blood Rose bit her nail until it bled. The saliva mixed with the blood created a sheen red coat over her yellow teeth. Nari took a step back.

“You’re not allowed near the property. Company rules.”

Blood Rose laughed, taking a couple of quick steps closer to Nari. “Don’t play games with me, girl! I’m not here to worship the ground that bitch walks on!”

Nari’s heart hammered in her chest. She hated herself for being afraid, but she refused to stand down. Blood Rose had just insulted her role model—Jeon Nari would not have it.

“Take that back.” Blood Rose stared at her stupidly until she clarified. “Take back what you said about Song Eun Mi _sunbaenim_.”

Blood Rose blinked a couple of times before she released a shrill peal of laughter. “You want me to _apologize?!_ ”

With a move that was both clumsy and quick, Blood Rose had Nari by the hair. She pulled so hard, Nari went down on one knee. A whimper almost escaped Nari’s lips; she swallowed it. She refused to give this psycho the benefit of seeing her in pain. She looked directly into Blood Rose’s eyes, inhaling the stench of her breath while thinking fiercely of how to break free.

“Listen here, little bitch, I have a bone to pick with Song Eun Mi. That bitch is the bane of my existence and she’s ruined my relationship. She came between me and my man. I want her dead. Very dead.”

Blood Rose laughed in Nari’s face, her hot, rotten breath making her eyes water. Her insane words made her stomach churn. With a war cry, Nari pushed herself off the ground, slamming her shoulder into Blood Rose’s chest. She released Nari’s hair, the wind knocked out of her. Nari kept pushing against her until she pinned her against the light post.

“You’re fucking crazy!” Nari yelled. “You’re fucking insane! Get lost before I call the cops!”

Blood Rose coughed, clutching her chest. Something slipped out of her hoodie, clattering onto the ground. Nari stared at it, a long, slender object wrapped in newspaper. She suddenly recognized what it was.

Her threats had not been empty after all.

They simultaneously realized that the other knew of the weapon. Blood Rose made a dive for it, but Nari was quicker, kicking it across the street with all her strength. Blood Rose screamed, lunging at Nari. She took the full force of the tackle, losing her balance, landing hard on her back.

Blood Rose straddled her, but she missed pinning her arms down. Nari blocked most of her blows, mind racing. Blood Rose continued to pound down on her relentlessly. She snaked her hands through Nari’s defenses, aiming for her neck.

Nari saw her chance and took it, jamming her thumb into Blood Rose’s eye. She grabbed the side of her face and pushed hard, throwing her off her. Unlike Blood Rose, Nari managed to pin her arms down with her knees. She punched her several times with everything she had until someone pulled her off her.

“Let go!” she screamed. She gave Blood Rose a kick on the side as she was dragged away. “Let go!”

“Jeon Nari!” A male voice hissed into her ear. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Nari was spun around. She found herself staring up at Kim Su Jong. His electric blue hair surrounded him like a hazy halo. His black lip ring gleamed, a stark contrast against his pale skin.

“K-Kim Su Jong _sunbae_ ,” Nari gasped.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Getting in a fight just outside the company?! Are you fucking begging them to kick you out?!”

“N-no! _Sunbae_! This woman was threatening Song Eun Mi _sunbaenim_!”

Su Jong’s face went stone cold. Nari shivered.

“What?”

“She kept saying that Eun Mi _sunbaenim_ had ruined her relationship and that she would kill her! She had a knife with her!” Nari pointed to where the knife still lay across the street. “See?”

Su Jong moved her aside, seeking Blood Rose, a murderous glare in his eyes. But Blood Rose was gone. She had slipped away while they argued, leaving behind nothing but a cracked tooth on the gravel.

Su Jong glared at the evidence of Blood Rose’s existence then turned to Nari.

“Next time, call security.”


	40. Churches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know the drill by now, right? Consider every chapter as potentially dangerous from this point onward. TRIGGER WARNING: Mental illness, medication use.

Eun Mi woke up feeling terrible. Her limbs weighted her down. It took her several tries to sit up. Her mind felt hazy, clouded and unfocused. The worst part was the nauseating feeling in her stomach. Eun Mi had just enough energy to make it to the bathroom in time.

Slumped against the bathtub, one arm hugging her stomach, it took her a good while to get her breathing back to normal. Everything hurt. Her stomach, her back, her eyes, her _mind_. Somewhere, hidden in the spider webs of her brain, a dark creature lurked, its bright yellow eyes glaring at her.

With a sputtering breath, Eun Mi started to pull herself to her feet only to fall back on her knees. The cold tiles on the floor made her nauseous. She squeezed her eyes shut. Eun Mi couldn’t remember anything. It must have been bad if she’d somehow ended up heavily sedated. She wondered if Tae Jun had something to do with it.

Fear still clutched her throat, the residual grip of a night terror she would never be able to remember making her saliva thick and painful to swallow. She wouldn’t have a full-blown panic attack, not with the sedative still so heavily concentrated in her body, but she could still be nervous and jittery.

She could still cry.

Eun Mi wound her arms around herself, laying on the floor. Her tears came hard and fast, cold and hot. She could hear the sound of them breaking against the tiles until her sobs became loud enough that she had to bite down on her knuckles.

She was so afraid.

A knock on the door made her jump. It took Eun Mi several seconds to hiccup her sobs into nothing. She gulped a lungful of air. Someone was speaking from the other side. Someone could hear her. As quickly as she could, Eun Mi swallowed her fear and tears, sealing her sobs away in the depths of her chest.

Her voice sounded foreign to her ears, echoing around her. “Yes?”

Another knock, a man’s voice. She couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Eun Mi sat up, wiping her eyes with her forearm. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Jiho.”

A pause. Eun Mi swallowed thickly.

“Listen, uh, I’m going to church. Do you want to come?”

When she didn’t reply, Zico knocked once more. “Ma Ri? Are you okay?”

Eun Mi wasn’t okay. She hadn’t been okay for a long time. She needed a sanctuary. “Y-yeah. Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Give me twenty minutes?”

Zico’s voice was soft and gentle. “Take as much time as you need.”

* * *

Zico didn’t tell Eun Mi anything. It probably had something to do with the fact that she didn’t ask. She didn’t have to; she knew that she had a breakdown, the magnitude of it enough to call Manager Jo in to do damage control. She didn’t want to think of the cameras. She didn’t want to start biting her nails from the thought that there might be evidence that proved how unstable she was, how crazy she could be.

Eun Mi didn’t have to say anything. Zico suspected that she felt something had happened despite being unaware of how huge it had been. It made him uncomfortable to bring it up, mainly because he didn’t feel like it was his place to do so.

After driving in silence for a couple of minutes, Eun Mi cautiously asked him if they could turn on the radio. Zico allowed her to choose the station and Eun Mi selected one at random, keeping the volume low enough that it wouldn’t bother them but loud enough to drown out the thoughts in her head.

From his peripheral vision, Zico watched her struggle to keep her thumbnail away from her teeth. She tried to sit still, but she would end up shifting in her seat several times a minute.

“They were off,” Zico said as he parked.

Eun Mi turned to look at him. Zico looked at her evenly, his eyes tired. His lips and eyes looked swollen, as if he’d slept too much during the day.

“The cameras,” he said, “they were off.”

They sat staring at each other for a while until Eun Mi finally nodded.

* * *

Taewoon sneezed into the crook of his arm, sniffling as he drew the mask back over his mouth and nose. The scent of cleaning supplies always made his nose itch. Sister Hope knelt beside him, her eyebrows drawn with concern. The years seemed to finally have caught up with her; a deep set of wrinkles had settled around her eyes, making her look tired.

“Are you alright, child?”

“Yes, Sister, I’m fine.” Taewoon patted her arm, helping her to stand back up. He guided her away from the open refrigerator door. She shouldn’t be exposed to sudden shifts in temperature, she had always been so prone to catching colds.

She took his hand in hers. Her fingers had started to bow and bend. Taewoon patted her hand, feeling suddenly aware of her mortality. Sister Hope smiled up at him. “Do you need anything?”

Answers. Taewoon needed a million answers to his million questions. The old nun couldn’t give them to him, so he sent her on her way, assuring her that he could handle cleaning the kitchen on his own.

Taewoon had emptied out the fridge, scooping out the small bits of food that tended to accumulate at the bottom of the drawers and in the corners. The contents rested on the counter, awaiting further inspection. He had a feeling he would end up washing containers that had long ago been empty. The nuns were usually very meticulous, but with the events the small church had hosted, chores had piled up.

He crouched low and started wiping the white interior.

The day had not started off well. Since he received Zico’s call, Taewoon had not been able to shake the feeling of foreboding in his heart. He figured that as the day progressed and Zico remained in HQ, the feeling would subside, but he had been wrong. Jungwoo’s call had unsettled him all the more. The things he had to say, the name he had cautiously given him—Taewoon didn’t want to think about what it all meant.

Taewoon sneezed again. He placed everything that was still good back inside, including the large Tupperware with kimchi his mother had sent over. He moved on to washing dishes.

Blood Rose was bad news.

She had started out ordinarily enough, a fan that evolved into one of Zico’s best and favorite fansite masters. They’d been almost friends, in fact. She had put in so much effort in providing BBC with good photos of Zico, had organized so many fan events and even supported him and the rest of Block B during their unexpected hiatus. No one really knew what had caused her downward spiral into obsession.

The shift from fansite master to stalker had been so drastically quick that Zico hadn’t even had a chance to process the shocking change before she was blacklisted at a fansign. BBC boycotted her, especially when photographs of Zico’s private studio and their family home were posted online.

It had been a mess, a frightening invasion of their privacy. Their family had been forced to move and Zico had done all he could to prevent Blood Rose from following him around. And, after a long year of torment, Blood Rose had vanished.

Taewoon had hoped that they would never hear from her again. Or if they did, that it would be as an anti-fan. Zico could handle anti-fans better than he could handle stalkers.

Taewoon finished with the dishes and started sweeping the floor.

After so many months of radio silence, why had she turned up now? Did Zico know that she was back? Had he spotted her following him around? Had she approached him already?

Taewoon hated thinking that she had been the one outside his place at dawn.

No. It couldn’t have been Blood Rose. Zico had so many stalkers. They came and went with the years, their numbers peeking when he was active as Block B or on his own. Only the most extreme remained while he was on hiatus. Zico hardly ever went on hiatus.

Taewoon finished sweeping and mopping the floor, moving on to organizing the cabinets. He moved the oldest of the canned food up front, checking expiration dates. He made room for the boxes of instant noodles he had stopped by to get on his way over.

Zico was one thing. Eun Mi was another.

Taewoon missed her. Miserably. He missed her so much he felt as if he were slowly dying. They hadn’t seen each other since CELESTIAL’s comeback. They talked on the phone, texted, even managed to have a video call here and there. Taewoon missed the feeling of her hand in his, the weight of her head resting on his shoulder, and the warmth of her body safely tucked away against his.

The situation with DAEE and Ryouta had them under rigid management. The members had to be extra careful so as to not create any further misunderstandings or rumors. They cut back on their personal schedules and lived within the confines of their dorms and company. Not only that, Ryouta’s hiatus had incriminated him all the more while DAEE’s continuous activities had her under fire for being shameless.

Taewoon could relate and understand the feeling that overpowered idols when a scandal broke out. Today had been the first time he’d seen Eun Mi in months. She had looked so worn. He’d suspected that the stress had interfered with her sleep, but he’d never imagined how thin she would look. He didn’t like it one bit.

With the kitchen clean, Taewoon found himself at a loss. His worries and thoughts continued to plague him. He leaned against the counter exhaling. Taewoon knew there was no point in thinking himself stupid. After staring at the wall for a couple of minutes, he took the trash out.

Mary Immaculate was a small church. The gardens were not nearly as spectacular as the ones in St. John’s or even as well-organized as the one in St. Cecilia’s. The grass had lost most of its color, a tattletale sign of the oncoming winter.

Taewoon walked over to the statue of the Virgin holding an infant Jesus in her arms. It was a large thing, taller than him even at ground level. The vegetation around it remained green, though some leaves had started to turn yellow. Taewoon tucked his hands inside his pockets, contemplating the statue before him.

“You’re back.”

A young man in a cassock was standing behind him. He had his hands clasped behind his back and a playful glint in his eyes. Taewoon had never seen him before. He bowed out of respect, but he felt strange doing so to someone so close to him in age.

“Please don’t do that,” the priest said, reaching out to pull him upright. “I feel weird seeing you do that when I’m younger.”

“W-what?”

The priest laughed. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” He patted Taewoon’s arm. “I may look like this, but I’m actually almost forty.”

Taewoon’s eyes widened. The priest laughed again. “I know, I know! God has truly blessed me. Some of the kids tell me I could have been an idol. What do you think?”

Taewoon didn’t know what to think. The priest’s appearance and playful attitude had him at a loss for words. He tried to nod, to speak, to do _anything_ , but he could only gawk at the man standing before him. Somehow, he had made his brain short-circuit.

The priest smiled. “I’m Father Soo Hyun. I’m a visiting priest, at least for the time being.” He held out his hand; Taewoon shook it. “Walk with me.”

Taewoon blinked, staring after him before rushing to catch up. Father Soo Hyun walked leisurely around the garden, his hands clasped behind his back.

“The sisters tell me you come here to clean when you have too much on your mind. From the sound and looks of it, you come here quite often. Yet, I’ve never once seen you in Mass.”

“I usually have to leave by then.”

Father Soo Hyun nodded. “You’re an idol, correct?”

“I used to be.”

He nodded again. “I’ve heard a thing or two. You and your brother are both in the entertainment industry.”

Taewoon wondered if he also knew how half the time he wasn’t in any industry at all.

“I’ve also heart that although you’re somewhat temperamental, you’re a very good older brother.”

Taewoon didn’t know what to say. His family had been a part of the parish since they were children; anyone old enough could have told the priest as much. How was he supposed to react? What did Father Soo Hyun want from him?

“I’m just a brother.”

Father Soo Hyun’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Just a brother?”

“Yeah. Just a brother.”

The priest laughed. He seemed like the kind that like to laugh from how often he reacted with a chuckle. “Cain was also just a brother to Abel, and look how that turned out.”

“Cain was an idiot.” Taewoon grumbled. “He was jealous and a moron. Instead of being happy for Abel or working harder, he did something stupid. He should have just quietly supported Abel if he had nothing better to offer.”

Father Soo Hyun laughed again.

“I like you, Taewoon. You may not think people notice what you’ve given up, but they do. The best part about it is that you never try to make it seem like you’re making a sacrifice.”

A sour taste settled in Taewoon’s mouth. He’d never thought of his decisions being seen as a sacrifice. If anything, they almost always seemed like giving up. As if he were moving aside because of how frightened and aware he was that his kid brother had more and better talent than he.

“You’re just a visiting priest,” Taewoon said, feeling as if the wind were being sucked out of him. As if someone had somehow disclosed the deepest feelings within his heart.

Father Soo Hyun did not laugh this time. He smiled, stopping before the entrance to the church. He turned to face Taewoon, placing a hand on his arm. He looked at him as if he understood everything he had left unsaid, as if his words were nothing compared to his silence.

“You have a very big heart, Woo Taewoon. Anyone with a good head on their shoulders can see that, but only those with honesty in their hearts could ever come to appreciate and love your own.”

Taewoon’s expression told him that he didn’t quite believe him. Father Soo Hyun squeezed his arm.

“You’re worth more than you think, Taewoon.”

Taewoon’s brow furrowed and his lip turned down in response. The whole exchange was starting to creep him out a little bit. It seemed surreal and uncanny, as if someone had suddenly added an NPC that he had inadvertently activated somehow.

“Stay for evening Mass,” the priest said. “You won’t regret it.”

The furrow in Taewoon’s brow deepened as the clergyman retreated into the church. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about the experience. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to stay for Mass.

Sighing, Taewoon turned away from the large, old wooden doors. He took a step, unsure of where he would head next.

“Woon-ah!”

He looked up.

Eun Mi was running towards him, face bright. Taewoon thought she might be crying, but he had no opportunity to check. She flew at him, jumping into his arms. Taewoon reacted instantly, holding her steady as she wound her arms and legs around him.

She hugged him tight. “I’ve missed you.”

Taewoon’s eyes were wide, shocked and bewildered. He pressed a hand to the top of her head; her hair was damp. He pulled the hood of her jacket over her head. Eun Mi squeezed him tighter.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Hey! Get off my hyung you flying monkey!”

“No!” Eun Mi held on.

Zico had made his way up to them. He wore an annoyed expression on his face, but his eyes betrayed the worry in them. The quiver in them informed Taewoon that something had happened.

He patted Eun Mi’s head, happy, though extremely confused, as to how she had made it to him with Jiho in tow.

“Are you staying for Mass?”

Taewoon nodded. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

* * *

The sun had set by the time Mass concluded. The Woo brothers had bickered for a while before Zico had to dance out of Taewoon’s hitting range. Taewoon chased him around until Father Soo Hyun called out to Zico.

“You know him?” Taewoon whispered.

“Yeah. He’s usually at St. John’s.”

Zico jogged over to the priest, genuinely happy to see him. Taewoon watched him with a furrow on his brow. Eun Mi slipped her hand into Taewoon’s, her smile small and pretty.

Taewoon pressed his hand against her cheek. Eun Mi leaned into it.

Her eyes were glazed over, seeming almost vacant, distant. Her complexion lacked its usual vivacity; the dark circles were so large and deep they seemed as if they would never disappear. There was a green tinge to her skin that worried him, a tattletale sign of what had transpired.

“Did they sedate you?” The question came out in a strained whisper, cold and almost dangerous.

Eun Mi’s smile was faint.

Taewoon’s jaw clenched. Eun Mi closed her eyes, placing her hand over his. He understood her meaning.

Later. They would talk about it later.

He pulled Eun Mi into an embrace, kissing the top of her head. She buried her face in his chest, holding tight.

Zico made a great show of announcing his return, stomping his feet and coughing loudly. He stood with his shoulders hunched, his hands in his pockets.

“Hyung, I’m hungry.”

“Congratulations.”

“Hey! Don’t you care about me? I could starve!”

Taewoon scoffed. Zico took him by the arm, shaking him.

“Ah, hyuuuuuung! Feed me! I’m hungry!”

Eun Mi’s eyes widened in horror. Taewoon shook him off, fighting off both the urge to smile and punch him in the face for trying to act cute.

“Shut up! Okay, fine! Just stop doing that already. It’s gross.”

Zico grinned, hugging his arm. He puckered up and received a hard flick on the forehead for his trouble.

He was still rubbing the pain away when they made it to the car. “Hyung, how did you get here?”

“Bus.”

“Eey.”

“I’m serious. I took the bus.”

Zico tossed him the keys. “You drive.”

Taewoon rolled his eyes. Eun Mi opted for the backseat and Zico rode shotgun.

She didn’t think much of riding in the same care with the Woo brothers. She didn’t feel any more anxious than she had been feeling earlier. In fact, Eun Mi seemed to feel a bit better as the side effects of the sedatives started to wane.

She didn’t think much of it because she couldn’t remember what had terrified her so much in her sleep. She didn’t remember the image of _La Muerte_. If she did, she would have never gotten in the car. Not this one or any other.


	41. Not Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know the drill by now, right? Consider every chapter as potentially dangerous from this point onward. TRIGGER WARNING: Stalking

Blood Rose saw it all.

She saw Song Eun Mi arrive with Zico. Saw them go into the church and leave the car behind. In some twisted way, she would have been more forgiving of them if it hadn’t been Zico’s personal car that remained parked alongside the curb.

A man. A woman. A church.

Blood Rose didn’t like the combination. She bit her nails, wincing at the pain in her jaw. That dang trainee had given ruined her shot at making Eun Mi disappear. Now Blood Rose was down a plan and a weapon. A minor setback.

She watched, waited, hidden behind a lamppost, wanting to run into the building and pull Eun Mi out by the hair.

A man. A woman. A church.

Why would Zico bring her to a church? A Catholic one? On a weekday?

“No,” she swallowed hard, “it can’t be because of that. Surely not!”

She was about to bolt into the premises when she spotted Zico heading back. There was another man with him, someone Blood Rose recognized as his older brother. She couldn’t remember his name. He was unimportant, but it looked like Zico had arranged to meet him there.

Eun Mi trotted along beside them, a smile on her face.

Blood Rose almost pounced on her then. How dare she smile! She would kill her with her own hands!

Zico turned his back to her, coming between them. He tossed something at his brother and by the time that he moved, Eun Mi had disappeared into the car. She watched them drive away, unnoticed and forgotten.

Angry tears filled her eyes, a shaky laughter bubbling in her chest. She watched Zico’s car disappear down the hill.

A church. A woman. A man.

“Not yours,” she said through gritted teeth. “He’s not yours.”


	42. Vicious Voices and Silenced Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead guys, I'm in grad school now so real life has become busier and stressful. I don't know how many of you have stuck around for this long, but thank you for not giving up on BWB even when I have been wanting to. You guys know the drill, right? TW: Mental illness, drinking, car accidents.

Su Jong and Eun Mi sat on the floor, sharing a bag of veggie chips and a Coke. Su Jong’s hair had been styled up, held in place with clips, the different shades of blue making for an astonishing visual. Eun Mi, on the other hand, still wore the large name tag vest from rehearsal. A staff member rushed by, sending them a curious glance before disappearing around the corner. Somewhere in the distance, BTS’ _Dope_ could be heard.

“That’s a really good song,” Su Jong said, licking his fingers.

“They have been doing very well this year.”

“I talked to Seok Jin earlier. He’s gotten even more handsome.”

Eun Mi smiled at how offended Su Jong looked. She took the Coke from him, sipping it slowly. “Good looking men always offend you.”

“Good looking men. Good looking women. How am I supposed to survive when everyone is so good looking?”

“By going blind?”

“That’s morbid!” He paused, thoughtful. “Although it might not be a bad idea. Let me gouge my eyes out.”

“ _That’s_ morbid.”

Su Jong grinned throwing his arm around her shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

Eun Mi elbowed him in response. Su Jong laughed and hugged her tighter, rubbing his cheek against hers.

Contact between the two groups had been minimal since Ryouta and DAEE’s scandal. When the groups did encounter one another in the company building or public events, the atmosphere was always loaded with tension. The only one that didn’t give a rat’s ass about the situation was Su Jong, of course. He still talked and interacted with the girls as if nothing had happened.

If they thought about it for a while, nothing bad had truly happened to L6. They were already well into their career, an established group. CELESTIAL, however, was still considerably new. And very fragile. Eun Mi could not believe they were only just starting their third year. That first glorious year as rookies felt like it happened a lifetime ago.

A door opened at the end of the hallway. They looked up. Zico stood a ways off, eyes darting from Eun Mi to Su Jong and back again.

Su Jong raised a hand. “Sup, bro.”

Zico’s eyebrows drew together slightly. He buried his hands in his pockets, leaning back on his heels, hunching his shoulders. “Hey.”

“Want some chips?”

He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do until Su Jong gave him a wolfish grin. “I won’t pick a fight, I promise. That’s all in the past.”

Eun Mi elbowed him. Su Jong laughed. Zico eventually went to sit with them, keeping Eun Mi between them as a sort of shield. They ate in silence for a while, Su Jong analyzing Zico with piercing eyes. Zico tried not to squirm, but Su Jong’s gaze was a little too heavy.

“So,” Su Jong said as he threw a chip into his mouth, “what happens after tonight?”

Zico stared at him blankly. Eun Mi shrugged, offering Zico more chips. “We all go back to our normal schedules, I guess. No more HQ, no more cameras, no more missions.”

Zico had a hard time swallowing. Eun Mi handed him the drink.

Everything really would be over after the concert. Zico found it hard to believe that so many months had already flown by. He had only just recently started to enjoy himself. If Zico felt cheated, he only had himself to blame.

“Are you going to miss it?” Su Jong asked.

“No,” said Eun Mi. “I am really not.”

Something in her voice told Zico that there was another layer to her that he had not yet come across. Su Jong seemed to understand her meaning perfectly, however, in the way that only best friends can. He nodded slowly, as if Eun Mi had continued to speak and he was listening to her words very carefully. It reminded Zico of the way Park Kyung listened to him.

“How about you, Jiho-ah?”

“H-huh?”

Su Jong said his name the same way Taewoon did, which probably meant that he had picked up the intonation from Eun Mi.

“Are you going to miss HQ?”

For a while, they thought he wouldn’t answer. Zico himself didn’t know what to say.

Would he miss it? The tension between him and Eun Mi, the months he spent avoiding her like the plague only to realize that he had been wrong this whole time, would he miss that? Maybe he could miss the early morning breakfast with Tae Jun, or the late night conversations with Hyorin. Maybe he would miss the artistic atmosphere, the like-mindedness of those surrounding him.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I think I’ll miss it.”

Eun Mi didn’t look at him. She hadn’t really looked at him since that day they went to church.

“Alright,” said Su Jong, procuring his cell phone from within his pocket. “Since this is the end of something, let’s mark it with a new beginning.”

He raised it over their head, angling the camera with ease. “Say cheese!”

 

* * *

 

The concert was a blur.

There were lights, explosions, fireworks, fan chants, and then the eerie silence that followed DAEE’s performances with CELESTIAL.

Zico watched it all from backstage, a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Su Jong found him, somehow, and threw an arm around his shoulder. They both watched as CELESTIAL performed as best they could, the four girls trying to make up for the one.

It didn’t look right. It didn’t feel right. It simply wasn’t right.

L6 was to perform after CELESTIAL, and Zico couldn’t help thinking that was a bad strategy. Eun Mi still had to perform alongside Jong Hoon later. Their companies had done a great job of hyping up their collaboration; the two had even filmed an MV for it that was set to be released at midnight after the concert.

“Hey.”

Su Jong leaned his ear closer, tucking Zico in under his arm. “Sup?”

“Isn’t Eun Mi being overworked?”

The bark of laughter Su Jong gave was almost enough to deafen Zico. He gave him a rough pat on the back, fixing his hair and clothes as he readied himself to go on stage. A staff handed him a mic.

“Figured that all out by yourself, did ya?”

Zico glared. Su Jong punched his shoulder lightly, dashing up on stage in a very dramatic entrance. It took Zico a few seconds to realize that Su Jong wasn’t rapping. He was singing. Kim Su Jong was singing Aoi Ryouta’s parts, filling in the gap their missing member left behind almost seamlessly.

It was rather frightening.

* * *

 

Eun Mi sat between Chorong and Jong Hoon, raising her glass alongside the rest of the remaining leaders and the production crew as Heo PD made his closing speech. With this final dinner, everyone celebrated a successful ending to Follow the Leader.

The cameras had finally been put away and the leaders that did not have prior engagements met the production crew for one last dinner the day after the concert for the show’s last hurrah. Most had managed to stay, but Sunggyu had left them the night before—Infinite had to fly out of the country soon to continue their world tour. N, Gyuri, Jimin, and Hyorin had joined them for a couple of hours before their schedules caught up with them.

Jong Hoon cheered loudly, tapping his glass on Eun Mi’s. Chorong smiled, sipping her drink.

“We did good, maknae!” He ruffled Eun Mi’s hair before downing his beer in one gulp.

Eun Mi tried to smile, tried to celebrate the seeming success of their song, but it felt empty somehow. She was conflicted. CELESTIAL had struggled through their performance. ReNA’s mic had failed. Chae had almost fallen off the stage. DAEE had been received with silence once again.

And yet AMORES had cheered loudly for L6. Sure, it may have been because Ryouta was missing, but it didn’t sting any less.

Ienna had been furious.

“DAEE is facing A.Borealis while Ryouta hides! How is it that L6 is forgiven so easily while we struggle? It’s only because they’re men!”

Eun Mi had tried to calm her down, tried to reassure her that this was only temporary. She had gotten nowhere before she’d been ushered away to change for her performance with Jong Hoon.

She had performed well, but the monitoring video had revealed how badly she’d actually sung. She simply hadn’t been feeling the song. She simply wasn’t feeling anything lately.

“Are you alright?”

Eun Mi looked up for the swirling liquid in her glass. Zico was staring at her from across the table. She gave a faint smile. “Never better.”

He frowned. “How are you getting home tonight?”

“L6’s manager is giving me a ride back.”

Zico’s frowned deepened. Eun Mi shrugged.

“They got a new manager recently. A couple of them quit.”

“Where’s Manager Jo?”

Eun Mi shrugged again. Something inside her felt heavy and empty all at once. It wasn’t like the incapacitating fear that usually gripped her; it was something colder, denser. She looked down at her drink again, sighing.

“I miss Taewoon.”

Zico’s eyes widened. Chorong looked at her in alarm. Jong Hoon didn’t seem to notice. And Tae Jun slammed his glass on the table, startling everyone.

“We’re leaving.”

Eun Mi set her drink down. They said their goodbyes, bowed and thanked everyone for their hard work, and followed the new manager out the front door.

Zico stared after them. Jong Hoon took another drink.

“He’s drunk,” he said. Zico looked at him. Jong Hoon pointed at Tae Jun. “He’s drunk as heck. He’s a mean drunk, that Choi Tae Jun.”

“He doesn’t seem drunk,” whispered Chorong.

Jong Hoon shook his head. “That’s what makes it scarier.”

He looked pointedly at Zico.

* * *

 

The valet had quit. Just like that, he had gotten fed up with the way the owners ran the place and he had walked off. Tae Jun and Eun Mi were left outside, standing on the edge of the building while the cold October rain fell on them. The new manager, a young man whose last name might have been Yoo, had raced out into the cold night to look for their car.

Eun Mi reached out her hand, letting the cold rain splash on her palm. She shivered.

“Song Ma Ri.”

“Hm?”

“Can you please shut up?”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

Tae Jun leaned against the building’s wall. Eun Mi kept her hand out.

“When will you realize how much of a problem you really are?” Tae Jun sighed. “Can’t you see that you were never meant to debut in the first place? Everyone knows that you’re the CEO’s charity project. And you’re only that because he wanted to marry your aunt. He knew she wouldn’t leave you behind, her crazy niece, so he made a spot for you in the company.”

Eun Mi stretched out her other hand, watching the rain soak her skin. The cold water climbed up her sleeves.

“You had talent, much to everyone’s surprise. But you were broken.” Tae Jun tapped his temple. “And you aren’t Korean. The public has liked you well enough until now, amazingly. You should really consider quitting the group though. You and DAEE.”

He sighed again, as if he had been holding in the poison for way too long. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of looking out for you. Quite frankly, I hate it. I’m tired of cleaning up your messes.”

Eun Mi pushed her arms further into the rain.

“Would you stop that? If you get sick, they’ll blame me.”

The rain was too cold. It was cold and horrible. It wasn’t like the desert storms of her childhood. It wasn’t like the water that soaked her beautiful adobe house and fed the dry earth beneath her sandaled feet.

“ _I’m going home_ ,” she whispered in her native tongue.

“You’re in Korea. Speak Korean.”

Eun Mi gave Tae Jun a sidelong glance before she stepped out into the rain.

* * *

 

The funny thing was, Zico didn’t hear it happen. The rain was too loud, the thunder too fierce.

Zico _saw_ it happen.

He saw how Eun Mi left Tae Jun’s side and stepped into the downpour. He saw how she walked out into the parking lot before them.

He saw the black shape rushing towards her. He saw her being hit, saw her roll onto the hood of the car and remain there. He saw how the car pulled back, saw how she rolled off. He saw her hit the ground.

And he saw how the car seemed to lurch forward again.

 


End file.
